If I Loved You
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. AU - no zombies. Historical fiction. "If I loved you, words wouldn't come in an easy way. Round in circles I'd go. Longin' to tell you, but afraid and shy. I'd let my golden chances pass me by."
1. Chapter 1

**This was one of those random ideas that would just not leave my head until I wrote it. As I explained on my tumblr, I've been reading a lot of historical romance lately.**

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He liked to watch her – but he always did so when he was certain no one else noticed where his eyes were going. He didn't see her often. He had no reason to. She spent most of her days within the keep, caring for the baby, and his duties were outside, seeing to the training of the men and patrolling the security of the borders.

But sometimes, she would come out to the courtyard with Judith, the babe having just learned to take her first steps on unsteady legs, and they would play as she laughed and clapped with everything Judith did as if she had never seen a greater accomplishment and Judith squealed with delight. Such happy sounds echoed off the walls of the keep and he found himself being distracted more times than not by them. By her.

She wore plain dresses in muted colors as the other servant women wore but he was always able to find her when his eyes moved around to locate her. Her hair, golden like the sun shimmering off the water of the lake, was usually what his eyes looked for first but if he could not see her, he would open his ears and listen for her for more times than not, she was singing – her voice rivaling that of a bird's song.

He saw her in the hall with everyone else each night for the evening meal but he actually couldn't see her.

Richard always insisted that he sit at the raised table with the other members of the family as he was head of his guard and it was a position higher than the others. So, as Carl, the oldest son, sat at his father's left side, he sat on the other side of Carl. And she sat on the other side of Lori, Richard's wife, who sat on the other side of her husband. He ate his meal in silence, grunting when Rick asked him the occasion question and even though the hall was loud with everyone eating and talking over one another, he was always able to hear her. It was as if his ears were trained, at times, to hear nothing but her.

Everyone called her Elizabeth but in his mind - and only in his mind, never to be spoken out loud - she was Beth.

She spoke with Lori throughout the meal, telling stories of things baby Judith had done during the day and answering questions Lori had in regards to her daughter. As soon as the meal was complete and the plates were beginning to be cleared by the serving women, Beth was always the first to leave the hall, hurrying back up the stairs to return to the babe, who was being watched during the meal by one of the young servant girls.

He remained sitting, licking the dinner from his fingers, and watching her through the hair that hung in his eyes, watching her disappear upstairs, knowing he wouldn't see her again until the next day - he could only hope he would – and it was always something he had to look forward to.

"Daryl," Richard said, getting to his feet and signaling him to follow.

Each night, as the hall began to be cleared of the others, Richard had him sit at the fire with him and he had Carl join them so they could talk over business of the keep. He still wasn't entirely used to it. He had been in charge of Richard's guard for three years now, responsible for the safety of the land, the keep and everyone who lived under Richard's name. Richard, himself, trusted Daryl with his life as did everyone else who lived at the keep and Daryl did not take his position lightly.

He spent hours with Richard, going over the men and their progress and how they were coming in their training. Richard knew many of his men were weaker than most and hadn't much battle experience but even if the time they lived in seemed to be a peaceful one, that could change as quickly as the wind changed direction and there was always a need to be prepared.

It was a late hour and most of the keep was asleep by now, Carl, included - having gone up to his chamber a bit of time ago - and Richard and Daryl were finished with their talk for the night, both men rising from their chairs.

"You should get some sleep," Richard suggested though Daryl recognized the tone and knew it to be more of an order. "Men need more than two hours each night."

"You should follow your own words," Daryl grunted back in his usual gruff voice and Richard only smiled.

They heard a rustle on the staircase and both turned their heads to see that it was Beth coming down carefully with baby Judith in her arms. Richard hurried to meet her just as she stepped down from the bottom step.

"Is everything alright?" Richard asked, worried already heavy in his tone.

"Just restless tonight, my laird," Beth answered in her soft voice with soft smile. "I was going to take her out to the courtyard for a few moments. The fresh air sometimes helps calm her."

"I will take her-" Richard began to say but Beth cut him off with a shake of her head.

"No, my laird," she smiled at him and Daryl stood nearby, looking at her, wondering if there was man in this world who would be able to refuse her when she smiled at them. Daryl had lost count of how many fights he had been throughout his life but he knew that Beth would be the opponent he would fear the most. "It's my job. You go get some rest and I will see to Judith," she told him.

It looked as if Richard wanted to argue but he seemed to realize what Daryl already knew and trying to protest against Beth was futile. He leaned in and kissed his baby daughter on the head.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," he said and without a word, he turned his head to look at Daryl and Daryl gave him a nod of his head, understanding the silent order. Then, still rather reluctantly, Richard turned and began ascending the stairs.

Beth began walking towards the doors but she stopped when she seemed to sense Daryl following behind her. She turned back towards him.

"You are coming with us, Sir Daryl?" She asked as if surprised and a bit confused.

She always called him _sir_ though there was no title to his name and she had been reminded that by others more than once. He almost reminded her of it now but that would mean if he would have to actually speak to her and he never spoke to her.

Even now, he just nodded to her question and followed her outside. He watched as she carefully went down the steps and then began to gently bounce Judith in her arms. His eyes swept across the darkened courtyard, at the men on station at top of the battlements for the night and the flames that lit the torches. He didn't move or say a word as Beth walked in small circles, singing a soft song he had heard from her before. He had memorized every song he heard her sing to the babe.

Her dress was brown and her hair was long and fell down her back, a braid woven through the locks. He wondered how old she was. She was younger than him but she wasn't a girl. He knew that much. She carried herself with a quiet confidence he didn't see in too many.

He knew that Beth wasn't a lady of station. Her father was a farmer for some of the laird's land and she, herself, was a servant, the main caretaker for Judith, and Daryl often wondered what she would do once the babe no longer needed her care.

Would she stay at the keep and perhaps work in the kitchens or would she return to live in her father's home and begin working in the fields? Daryl admitted to himself that he didn't like either prospect as neither would allow him to see her as often as he did now. Or perhaps her father would decide it was time for her to marry. Daryl found himself liking that thought even less and he felt himself frowning.

He had no reason to frown, he reminded himself. He had never even spoken to her and it wasn't as if they interacted with one another. Except for moments like this, she probably wasn't even aware of his presence most days.

"You're frowning, Sir Daryl," her words to him suddenly spoken broke through his thoughts and his eyes focused on her, finding that she was standing a few feet away from him, looking at him, her smile and eyes twinkling at him in the flickers of the flames. He noticed that Judith seemed almost back to sleep in her arms. "It seems as if you're always frowning," she then added.

He didn't say anything; just continued to look at her and he knew he was still frowning. She stood there and looked at him and it seemed as if she was waiting for him to say something in response. Daryl didn't though. This was the first time he had ever been near her when it was just the two of them and he had never imagined this to happen so he never thought of words to say to her. He had always just preferred to watch her. Speaking was a whole other action he wasn't prepared to do.

He wondered how she knew that he was always frowning unless she watched him as he watched her. He didn't know how he felt about that. Surprised, perhaps. He wouldn't have thought that she would look at him at any time. Why would a lady like her ever look at him?

She seemed to realize as if he wasn't going to speak because she looked to Judith and her lips brushed across the babe's light hair. "I best go lay her down once more," Beth said and Daryl was almost grateful when she came back up the steps and walked past him back into the keep. Being around her made him too nervous – and nothing was known to make him nervous. He'd rather face battle than this female.

Inside, he followed her to the stairs but did not follow her as she began making her way up. She paused on the fourth step up and looked at him, her smile still soft and Daryl couldn't help but look at her and find himself unable to look anywhere else.

"Thank you for keeping us company, Sir Daryl," she said to him in her soft voice.

"'s jus' Daryl," he heard himself actually speak and he almost winced at how rough his voice was compared to hers.

But Beth didn't seem to care about that. Her smile only grew and seemed to brighten and she might as well have just punched him in the stomach, he felt such a shortness of breath in his lungs. He watched as she turned and began climbing once again, disappearing into the darkness of the second level. Even with her gone, he still couldn't get himself to breathe.

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 **Thank you very much for reading this randomness of mine!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been wanting to add onto this random story for a while now. I'm not sure if more will be added. I just get into a certain mood in regards to writing this.**

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She did her best not to notice but it was almost impossible for her not to. She knew there was no reason for her to care and certainly no reason for her to feel jealous and she did her best to spend each meal in the hall sitting beside Lady Lori and telling her all about baby Judith and not paying attention each time a serving girl from the kitchen came to the table to pour Sir Daryl's cup with more wine or fill his bowl with more food and always giving him their best smiles and pushing themselves up in their dresses a bit more.

Sir Daryl never seemed to notice the attention. He hardly lifted his eyes up as he ate his meal but Elizabeth definitely noticed. And she disliked it so much that she did. She had absolutely no reason to. They had only spoken one time in truth – when Judith had been restless and she had walked the babe about the courtyard and Sir Daryl had stood nearby, standing guard. But even then, that conversation hadn't been long or grand and they hadn't exchanged words since. No matter how badly she felt the need to talk with him again, she just didn't have a reason to and she didn't wish to impose herself upon him – not like the other young women of the keep did to him.

He was a quiet man – intense and impenetrable – and it was obvious he cared to have the company of himself and few others. There was Laird Richard, of course, and the two men were as close as brothers and if Sir Daryl spoke with anyone throughout the day, it was to that man. And then there were the men in the garrison – the men Sir Daryl was in charge of training, preparing them for a fight that always seemed to be looming on the horizon. The times they lived in seemed peaceful for the moment but Elizabeth knew that that could change as swiftly as the wind changed direction.

As she ate, a young serving girl always stayed in the chamber above, watching over Judith, and as soon as she was finished eating, Elizabeth would leave the table to return to her. She knew the baby wasn't hers – and she never forgot such a fact – but the truth was, silently to herself and deep in her breast, she loved Judith as if she was. She had always wanted a child of her own and she had reached that age where she would be married off to a man of her father's choosing. But her father didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to make a match for her and Elizabeth admitted that she was nervous of it. Her father was good and smart and she knew that he would do his best to choose a husband for her that would treat her kindly.

But she had been living within the laird's keep for almost two years now and she didn't know how her life would be or what direction it would go in when Judith no longer needed a nurse. She still had a few more years with the child, she knew, but she often hoped that time would stop altogether so Elizabeth didn't have to think of leaving what had become her home. She had it well here, she knew. She had food in her stomach and was not yelled at or felt unsafe or beaten and the lady of the keep was a kind one to work for and Judith was an angel dropped straight from heaven.

And there was also Sir Daryl.

Sir Daryl with his long dark hair and his tanned skin from being outside for all hours of the day and his muscles and strong limbs. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen and though she knew it would never happen – since her father didn't even know of Sir Daryl's existence – she hoped that perhaps, a match would be made between the two.

She was well aware that Sir Daryl wasn't a sir at all though she looked to him as he should be – a man of strength and bravery should have a title to his name – and it was a hard habit to break herself of and with no title in his name, that gave him the right to marry any girl he wanted – any girl not of a station above him. And judging by the smiles and batting eyelashes the other young females in the keep gave him, they were all aware of that.

Elizabeth knew it was silly and pointless to allow herself a crush on a man who was the object of affection for so many others. With her days filled with caring for Judith, he saw her far less than other women of the keep and he probably didn't even know her name.

Springtime was upon them – Elizabeth's favorite time of year. The animals were eager to be able to roam in the fields again and all of the windows were pushed open to allow the fresh, cool air to rush in and push the last remnants of the frigid winter from every corner.

"I'm not sure what it is," Lady Lori confessed as Elizabeth pressed the damp cloth to her forehead as the Lady laid in bed, where she had been all morning, even unable to be dressed and go down below for breakfast. "The room's been spinning all morning."

"It is the sun," Elizabeth suggested. "We have gone so long without seeing it and now, your eyes are having to adjust to it once more. Is the pound terrible?" She asked.

Lady Lori closed her eyes as she nodded.

"I will tell Laird Richard and I will go collect some lavender for you," Elizabeth said, pulling the cloth away back to the bowl of water, dipping it in and wringing it out. "It will help with the ache in your head."

"You should not leave the walls of the keep just to collect flowers for me," Lady Lori said, her eyes open once more, looking upon her young pretty nursemaid.

Elizabeth gave her a kind smile. "I will ask Laird Richard if someone may accompany me. Surely, one man can be spared to keep me and Judith company for an hour – especially when it is a task that will put his lady right again."

Lady Lori smiled a little at that and reached over, patting Elizabeth's hand. "What would I ever do without you?"

Elizabeth didn't respond to that. She just smiled and returned the damp cloth to Lady Lori's forehead. "You rest, my Lady, and I will have Carol come and sit with you. I will be back soon and your ache shall be gone by this evening."

Lady Lori's eyes were already closed and she squeezed Elizabeth's hand once more before Elizabeth slipped from the side of the bed and left the chamber as quietly as she could. Laird Richard was waiting out in the passage, walking back and forth across the smooth stone, and he looked the instant Elizabeth stepped out, closing the door behind her.

"I must go collect some lavender, my Laird," she told him. "Boiling it down in water will help with her headache."

Laird Richard nodded and did not doubt her. Her father was a man of natural medicine and all knew that he had taught his daughter well in such matters.

"I will have someone go with you," Laird Richard said as she knew that he would. "Gather what you need and he will be waiting for you in the courtyard. I will have one of the other women to watch Judith while you are gone."

Elizabeth dipped a curtsy to him before going towards her small chamber that had been given to her beside the chamber where Judith slept. She gathered her shawl for though it was spring, there was the slightest nip in the air – especially on the hills where the lavender grew – and a basket as well that would allow her to collect more than enough of the flowers. She would boil all she brought back and store the rest in case this happened again.

Coming down from the second level and crossing the Great Hall, she stepped outside and her eyes scanned the courtyard to see who Laird Richard would have to chaperone her. Her stomach clenched the instant she saw Sir Daryl standing there, his crossbow across his back and his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his side. His eyes settled on her the instant she stepped outside and she knew that he was the one who was to come with her.

He didn't say anything to her as she slowly stepped to him.

"Surely, the Laird would have sent someone with me who was a little less important?" She voiced her thought out loud to him and his size easily outmatched her own and she had to tilt her head up to look into his face.

"This task is for the Laird's Lady," was all he said and Elizabeth knew that it made sense. Lady Lori and Laird Richard had a deep affection for one another and of course the Laird would send his best man on an errand that could help put his wife at ease once more.

The lavender hills were behind the keep, in the woods to the east, and they did not speak as they stepped through the tall walls of the bailey and began their walk.

Elizabeth normally found no difficulty in speaking with someone. She had certainly never been shy, her father always told her with an affectionate warmth in his eyes, but being with Sir Daryl – being completely alone with not even the babe in her arms to distract her – her tongue felt too large and dry for her mouth and she could find no words to say to him.

Her one opportunity to be around him with no other man or smiling kitchen maid and she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. And Sir Daryl certainly wouldn't break the silence. She knew that the man would probably go through the rest of the days in his life, not uttering a word if it was at all possible.

They walked side by side and she knew he had to shorten his steps to stay with her. Once they reached the familiar fields where the lavender grew like waves in the water, Elizabeth lowered herself to her knees and did not wait in plucking as much up as she could, placing it in her basket carefully before reaching for more. She was aware of Sir Daryl standing nearby, his eyes on the sharp lookout for anything that might be interpreted as danger, and Elizabeth felt safe with him so near to her. And though she felt the cold nip in the air, blowing through her blonde hair that she had worn down that day, she felt inexplicably warmer with him there with her.

She imagined if he ever pondered his own future. Would he stay living within the keep for the rest of his life, training the Laird's men until he was too old to lift a sword or had perished in some unforeseen future battle? Or would he wish to get himself married and live in a tiny cottage with his wife and children, living a quiet life of quiet peace?

As she plucked the lavender, Elizabeth couldn't help but have her mind wander to such a scene but in her mind, she was the woman would be his wife and their cottage was small and warm and surrounded with lavender and she always knew what words to say to her husband and she never felt nervous around him for when she was with him, it was the only time she would ever truly feel completely safe.

It was a beautiful daydream and one that made her lips turn into the slightest smile she hid from him by turning her head away but she knew that it would only ever remain a daydream for having a match made for herself with Sir Daryl was impossible when she was fairly certain that Sir Daryl never remembered her name until someone else spoke it to him. She couldn't marry a man who didn't know her name and a man like him of such importance to all of their people's safety couldn't marry a mere nursemaid. Title or no title to either of their names, it would not be a match that would be seen as equal.

She stood up, brushing dirt from her skirt, and gathered the basket handles in her hands.

Sir Daryl looked to her and she did her best to give him the smile she gave to everyone, hoping that he could not see the slight quiver in her lips that he gave her. He didn't say a word to her as he reached over and took the basket from her hands, carrying it himself.

"Sir Daryl-" she began to protest his unnecessary chivalry but he turned and began walking back towards the keep and Elizabeth lifted her skirts, hurrying to catch up with him.

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another update in just a week but I was inspired once again for this one. Thank you so much to everyone who is supporting this weird and random little story of mine.**

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Carl was turning ten and three and Richard and Lori wanted to throw a feast in celebration, inviting all of the other neighboring lairds and ladies to the keep for the occasion. Richard did it not only to celebrate his older child and first born son reaching a milestone in his life but to also maintain friendly alliances between all those that he might need to call upon for help one day just as they would be able to call upon him and his men.

The keep was a flurry of activity for the days leading up to the feast. The Great Hall was scrubbed from top to bottom and bedrooms were treated the same – in case guests had the need to spend the night and return to their homes the next morning. Floors were washed, fresh rushes laid down and Lady Lori ordered the best tapestries to be hung from the walls.

Richard and Daryl took a few men with them on a hunting trip nearly every day, adding to the kitchen's stocks – wild boar for it was Carl's favorite but also deer and some pheasant. Cook was going to be working day and night, it seemed, to get the feast all ready for all of the guests in attendance.

Daryl's days did not change much – except for more of each one devoted to hunting. He still spent his days outside in the lists, training the men, going over the same instruction over and over again with each one of them, wanting it to be as natural to them as breathing. And he saw no reason why it could not be. No one knew what tomorrow would bring but they all had to be prepared for whatever it was. Of course he hoped for peace. They were lucky for these days to be quiet and peaceful but Daryl had learned as had Richard and a few of the other, older men. Times like this rarely lasted for long periods of time.

And at just the mere thought of all of this having to be fought for to be kept, even though it was just the way life was sometimes, he would feel his eyes drift away from the lists back to the keep – even if he knew she was inside with the baby.

Sometimes, though… sometimes, she was outside. Her duties did not change either although he had witnessed her offering her help to both Richard and Lori. And both had shaken their heads and told her she had one of the most important tasks in the keep and she was to see to Judith and only to Judith. And on days when the sun was feeling particularly warm and the wind shifted in such a way, he swore he could smell a hint of lavender from the east, he would look and Beth would be outside with the baby.

He wondered if it was the lavender he was smelling or if it was just her – her sweet scent making its way all the way down from the courtyard to the lists where he was surrounded with men, sweating with their exercise, and his own scent was ripe with his own grime.

It had been a fortnight since he had taken her to the fields for her to pick lavender for the Lady's headache. He hadn't received an opportunity again to be with her in that manner; when it could be just the two of them without the interference of everyone else around them. If he had been a different man, he would have taken the chance for what it was; a small miracle bestowed upon him and he would have talked with her – walking there, while there, and walking back.

But he was not a man to talk and he did not change his ways when around Beth – no matter how badly he might have wanted to. And she hadn't spoken either though he felt her eyes on him more than once, as if she perhaps wanted to speak but she didn't know what to say. Daryl knew that he probably didn't make it easy on her. He knew that Beth probably saw his fierce constant frown and his scars – the visible ones anyway – and despite her smiling at him whenever she saw him, he knew that she was probably frightened of him. And who could blame her for that? He was as dark as the biggest bear in the woods and she was as delicate as the lavender she plucked.

He wasn't a man to dwell on things – especially of this nature. He had bigger things to occupy his mind. He was the man put in charge in keeping all of these people safe. He didn't have time to think of the pretty nursemaid. And he could successfully go hours without thinking of her at all. But then, sometimes, it seemed as if he could think of nothing else.

When the day of the feast arrived, Daryl wished he was able to be anywhere else. He had never cared for such gatherings. Richard and he had known one another since they were boys and Richard's own father had taken Daryl away from his abusive drunk of a father and had brought him up to the keep to train him. Daryl and Richard had grown up beside one another as close as brothers even though Daryl never forgot that Richard was stations above Daryl's own nothingness.

But Richard was not like the other Lairds. He didn't mind getting dirty with his men. In fact, he preferred it. Daryl didn't have the stomach to deal with the other Lairds and their Ladies, who seemed to care for little else except gossip and who had the finest clothes.

Spending an evening surrounded by them was his version of what Hell must be like.

"But you have to come!" Carl had said as soon as Daryl had grunted that he might prefer to spend his evening up on the battlements, keeping watch.

Daryl said nothing else as he swung his sword again and against, practicing against the wood stump that was met to signify a man and Carl sat on a nearby post, watching him as he oftentimes did. The boy had had some training but not enough, in Daryl's opinion, but he kept it to himself. The boy was being trained to take over for his father; not to be a soldier.

"Papa will make you come," Carl then said with firmness and Daryl still did not speak because Daryl knew that was the truth. Richard would not allow him to sit this one out. Not when it came to a celebration being held for his son; Daryl's own godson.

"Mama has said that there will be many girls here tonight. She's never agreed with papa on not already discussing a marriage arrangement for me and that it's time. She said my future bride will be in the room." The boy made a face at that and Daryl's lips quirked as much as they did when he wanted to smile. His sword did not stop as he felt beads of sweat trickle down his face. "Why haven't you ever gotten married, Uncle Daryl?" Carl asked.

"Look at me, boy," Daryl grumbled as he swung in a circle and swept his sword across the top of the stump, successful in decapitating the "man". Finally, he stopped and took a moment to catch his breath.

"I hear the kitchen servants giggle about you," Carl said, grinning with his teasing.

Daryl didn't say anything to that because he heard them, too. He just ignored them though. He had never been one for flirtations or intimacy like his other men. He preferred to be on his own and every girl he had come across giggled too much and were too bold towards him. They made him uncomfortable with their aggressive confidence.

His mind immediately went to thoughts of a particular girl and he didn't protest against it from happening. He hadn't thought of her all day – which had been quite a feat in itself. But now, resting his weary arms, he thought of her and wondered if she would be at the feast tonight. Beth wasn't like the other girls he had come across. She wasn't like anyone he had ever met before – not that they had even really met. They knew one another but she had her duties and he had his and rarely did those intersect.

If Beth was going to be in attendance, perhaps attending the feast – even for just a short time – would be something he'd be able to tolerate.

And Beth was in attendance because Carl had wished his baby sister at his birthday celebration and how could his parents refuse that request?

Cook had worked long and hard and the food seemed endless and the meal felt as it lasted for hours, people becoming more free as the wine poured more freely. Richard had hired musicians and as they began to play their first song and Lori took Carl towards one of the many girls in attendance, suggesting that they should dance together, Daryl was quick to grab his own cup of wine and slip from the table he had been sitting at. He didn't have the stomach for dancing. He had not sat at his usual spot with the rest of the family. Not tonight. There were many people far more important than him here tonight and Richard had to be the Laird of the keep tonight and see to his more formal of duties.

As the floor was cleared and made way for the dancing couples, Daryl walked around the outer edge of the crowds, sticking to the walls. And then he came upon her. She was standing near the bottom of the stairs, also keeping her way from the others. Judith was in her arms – the babe dressed in an elegant little gown of purple as Beth's own dress was simple and plain brown as it usually was. It didn't matter. She didn't need to dress herself as peacock like the other women there though to be the most beautiful.

Her body was swaying slightly to the music, as if she was imagining herself dancing, and he put himself close enough to her to listen but not so close where she would notice. She didn't seem to paying attention anyway to anyone around her except for Judith in her arms. The babe was gazing up at her nurse with open adoration and a gummy smile as Beth sang to her the words of the song and somehow, even with the music and the noise of the people that surrounded him, Daryl was able to hear her as if it was only them in the hall.

 _My lief is faren in londe -_ _  
_ _Allas, why is she so?_ _  
_ _And I am so sore bonde_ _  
_ _I may nat come her to._ _  
_ _She hath myn herte in holde_ _  
_ _Wherever she ride or go -_ _  
_ _With trewe love a thousand folde._

He had never heard any bird's song who sounded as peaceful and lovely as Beth singing.

And it seemed as if he wasn't the only one to notice.

The man seemed to appear out of nowhere, putting himself far too close to Beth, and Daryl's frown was instant as he watched. Beth's own body tensed at the appearance of the stranger and the smile faltered but remained, however, much smaller. Beth was the sort to smile at everyone but the man did not know this and saw it as an invitation. With the noise, Daryl could not hear the man's words but he knew he didn't need to hear them to know what was said. He saw the man's fancy clothes. The man was not one of the Lairds but one of his men. A title to his name but with no true power. Daryl knew this type of man but because of his station above others, he thought he could rule over anyone beneath him.

Daryl did not waste another second before making his presence known, stepping towards them and placing himself beside Beth, slightly behind her, so he towered over her and he could show his size to the man in front of them. He was waiting for the man to look at Daryl and see him as nothing more than a soldier and make an attempt at reminding him of his place. Instead, the man took one look at Daryl and his face became noticeably paler.

"Forgive me," he was quick to stutter. "She said nothing of having a man in her life."

Daryl doubted this man would have listened even if Beth had said something of the like.

But Daryl said nothing and just kept staring and the man was quick to turn and hurry away, probably off to find someone a bit more open and willing to his non-existent charm.

As soon as he was gone, Beth exhaled a deep, shaky breath and she hugged Judith a little tighter as she turned towards him, tilting her head up so she could look into his face. Daryl said nothing as he stared down to hers and he reminded himself not to frown at her with the same frown which he had scared the man.

"Thank you," she said and he could hear the slight tremble in her voice and he could not blame her for being afraid. If nothing had been done, she would not have been the first servant overpowered by a man in a higher position than her, who thought he had any sort of right to her just because she was a servant.

"Here," he grunted and held out the cup of wine he was still holding. "Will calm you down again," he further explained when he saw her hesitate for a moment. His explanation was good enough for her though because she reached out and took the cup into his own hand and he instantly felt her fingers brush against his.

Not even in battle had he felt a blade sharper than this.

He tried his best to not flinch at the contact; to not immediately notice how soft her skin was. He watched as she raised the cup to her lips and took the smallest of sips.

"Thank you, Sir Daryl," she said, her eyes floating back up to him, holding the cup towards him for him to take once more. He did – and made sure his fingers did not touch hers.

"I'll stand here with you for the rest of the night," he then offered before he could even take note of the words coming from his own mouth. But before he could take them back – which, he realized, he wasn't even _thinking_ of doing – Beth burst into a smile that damn near knocked him back a step more than her touch.

And he was quick to realize why his men became bumbling fools when a girl was around. Just like that, he was damn near ready to do anything to have Beth keep smiling like that.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please comment!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

…

 **IV.**

After service in the keep's chapel every Sunday, Lady Lori gave Elizabeth the rest of her day free away from Judith. "The Lord's Day," Lori had smiled at her when she had first told her about giving her one free day of the week. So many others on the same station as her did not receive a free day whether it was the Lord's Day or not and she did not feel right taking one of her own but Elizabeth did not argue because she knew it would be without point. Once the Lady had something planted in her mind, there were few things that would be able to successfully extradite it once more.

Elizabeth had three dresses – two serving dresses she wore and one better dress for service on Sunday. She was quick to go into the keep now and return to her room, securely closing and bolting the door behind her so she could change from her Sunday morning dress and wear one of her other simple dresses in its place. It was windy that day but she took out the respectable plait that she wore her hair in for service. She liked her hair free.

As she came from the keep again, eager to go down to the village to visit with her father as she did on every other Sunday, she heard cheers and heckles coming in the direction of the training lists and she looked to see that a small crowd had formed, watching something. Curious, Elizabeth could not help but join them.

On the outer fringes, trying to steal a glance between two men standing in front of her, there was Sophia, the young daughter to Carol, one of the kitchen servants. Elizabeth came to stand beside her and Sophia looked at her with a bright smile.

"Elizabeth, do you see?" She asked eagerly.

Elizabeth could not see much of anything even when standing on her toes, trying to look over the shoulders to see what had gotten everyone's excited attention. "I do not," she then admitted with a smile and shake of her head. "What is happening?" She asked for surely, if the girl was this excited, she knew why she was making an attempt at watching.

"The Laird and Daryl are sparring," Sophia informed her with a smile that grew brighter.

And Elizabeth smiled as well, now understanding everyone's wish to watch. Although the Laird trained with his men nearly every day, he rarely took part in sparring with them. He felt as if he would never quite get a fair match – and rightly so. Most of his men would allow the Laird to win against them simply because he was their Laird and they respected him; no matter whether that actually helped the Laird when it came to preparing him for battle or not. Daryl, as one of the Laird's oldest and closest friends, was the only one to accept the challenge when Laird Richard presented him with a fight and would then proceed to give him an actual fight. It was known that the Laird had yet to defeat Daryl when they sparred.

Cheers rose up among the men watching and Elizabeth stood on her toes, trying to see.

She wondered if the men were cheering so eagerly for the Laird but she saw that they were cheering for both opponents and at the moment, Daryl had the advantage of Laird Richard, approaching him, backing him into a corner of the space cleared for them. Their swords crashed together with such a force, Elizabeth nearly felt her teeth rattle from the sharp noise. The cheers grew louder and standing on her toes, she was able to have a view of Daryl, him facing in her direction, and she saw the slight smile that was across his lips.

And then, as if out of all of the eyes watching him in that moment, he felt hers, he suddenly lifted his head and she nearly gasped as his eyes instantly met hers. He stared at her and his smile began to disappear and Elizabeth told herself that she was distracting him somehow and that she should turn away so he could return his attention to where it should be. And yet, she found herself unable to do so. She felt her heart speeding up beneath her breast bone, thumping so loud, it rivaled the noise of the men's cheers.

She knew she was in love with this man. She did not try to deny it to herself. It did not matter that they did not know one another or had hardly exchanged words. It was the truth. She had never been in love and she had never felt such a strong pull in her stomach as how she felt whenever Sir Daryl was near and she knew that that must be love. She had been meaning to ask her sister, Margaret, about it for days now but any time she had found an opening to, she found herself holding back from speaking of it as if she was afraid.

Perhaps it was silly to be in love with this man; a man who had so much attention from other women of the keep. A man who held the respect of everyone within these walls. A man who, while was on the same station as her, seemed as if he was so far above her. She knew it wasn't something to dwell on and hopefully, her love for the man would pass. Her father would surely be making a match for her soon anyway and it wouldn't to Sir Daryl.

With Daryl distracted, Laird Richard began to be able to push back, getting himself from the corner, and Daryl seemed to snap from whatever trance he had been in, staring at her and returned his attention to the fight. Elizabeth still felt her heart drumming quickly within her chest and she wondered if she had just been imagining him staring at her like he had been. She looked around to see if someone else was standing nearby that would have his attention and she saw more than one serving woman from the keep, all watching the fight, more specifically, watching Daryl, and she knew, more logically, that he had been looking at one of them instead of at her.

She began drawing herself back from the crowd just as Daryl ended the fight with his dagger pulled from his side and now at the Laird's throat and everyone cheered and the Laird laughed as he slapped Daryl on the back.

Elizabeth quickly turned away and lifting the front of her skirt, she hurried away, towards the front gates and then down the bridge, heading into the village. She could still hear her heart and feel her blood pumping and her fingers felt as if they were trembling. She knew her father would be choosing a husband for her soon but no matter who he chose, Elizabeth already knew that her future husband would never get such a reaction to rise from her as Sir Daryl could get just from looking at her.

She knew it was not something to be afraid of but being in love with Sir Daryl was absolutely terrifying to her because she didn't understand how she could be. She knew nothing about the man except that he was a good man. He was the man who stood watch as she walked with and sang to a fussy babe. He was the man who stood watch as she plucked lavender though she knew he had far more important things to do with his time. He was the man who stood at her side all night at Carl's party because he knew how shaken she was when that one noble man had approached her.

Listing all of his actions out in her head, maybe there was no reason to be afraid or confused as to why she found herself in love with this man. She hardly knew the man, true, and she knew nothing would ever come of it, also true, and yet, she knew enough to know that he was a good man and surely, there was nothing wrong with watching him from a distance, dreaming of a little cottage with their children and lavender growing nearby. These thoughts could just simply be something to warm her heart and make her smile before she was married to her own husband.

Margaret and her husband, Glenn, owned the village's inn and Elizabeth went there now, smiling at everyone who passed who she knew. Inside the low-ceiling room with the windows open and a fire in one of the hearths, she saw her sister and father immediately, sitting at one of the wooden tables beneath one of the windows. There were others there, cups of wine or ale in front of them and purchasing a meal from the inn's kitchen. She recognized some and others, she did not – probably just men passing through, selling their fares as they went before moving onto the next village.

"Bethy," her father, Hershel, greeted with a warm smile and sparkling eyes as he saw his youngest child come to the table.

Margaret stood up and embraced her sister in a tight hug. "Did you have any trouble getting inside the door?" She asked as they all sat down once again.

"Of course not," Beth frowned a little with confusion. "Should I have?"

"There have been a few men, loitering outside, bothering patrons as they come in and out," Margaret explained. "Randall and his merry band of fools. Glenn has sent one of the kitchen boys up to the keep to tell someone so they can get the men to move off."

"How is the keep, Bethy?" Hershel asked, switching subjects. "How is the Lady's babe?"

And Elizabeth felt herself smiling just at the mention of Judith. She truly did love that little babe so much and it only made her ache with a growing desire to have her own. And of course, with her mind traveling in that direction, Sir Daryl's face was the one to enter next.

She felt her cheeks warm but if either her father or sister asked her about it, she would simply say that the room was a bit stuffy at the moment.

"Everything is wonderful," Elizabeth answered with a smile. "I don't know what I am going to do once Judith no longer is in need of my care."

Hershel smiled at that and Elizabeth felt her stomach knot. She knew why her father was smiling like that. There was only one possible reason for it. And suddenly, she wasn't ready to hear it. She wasn't ready to hear that her father had found a man for her to marry. She wasn't ready to know who it was because suddenly, she didn't wish to get married to the man her father had found. She knew that she must and that it was how things were. She was expected to be married and have children and there was no way around that. And she knew that no matter what name of the man her father said right then, it wouldn't be the name she would want to hear; the man she truly wanted for her husband.

But Hershel did not seem to sense her sudden distress.

"Do you know James, the Blacksmith apprentice?" Hershel asked, still smiling.

Elizabeth felt as if she could hardly swallow as she slowly nodded her head. Yes, she knew James. He used to pull on her braids when they had been much younger. She hadn't seen him for some time now. He had been busy with his apprenticeship, and she had been busy with her own duties up at the keep. What did he even look like now?

Before she could answer her father though, there was some sort of ruckus outside – raising voices and rustling of clothes. Elizabeth was grateful for the interruption as Margaret stood up to go and see what it was. Glenn came in from the back kitchen and strode towards the front door, opening it, revealing that some of the men from the Laird's garrison had arrived. Beth almost instantly saw that Sir Daryl was among them, currently holding one of the young men by the back of his shirt.

Glenn and Margaret spoke with the Garrison men and whatever was said, the men who had now been stopped looked somewhat paler.

"Thank you for your aid," Margaret said graciously. "Are you going to bring them back to the keep?" She asked and Elizabeth couldn't help but stand up and bring herself closer to the door. And as it seemed to be normal protocol now, her eyes rested on Sir Daryl and seemed to have trouble looking anywhere else.

He was too distracted though to notice her gaze this time. The man he was holding onto kept thrashing about, trying to get himself loose, and Sir Daryl's grip only tightened, trying to keep the man still.

"The Laird will want to speak with them," one of the other Garrison men answered.

"Would you be so kind as to escort my sister back to the keep then as well?" Margaret said and Elizabeth couldn't help but be surprised at that request, stepping forward until she, too, was visible in the doorway. This time, Sir Daryl looked at her and he didn't look away.

She highly doubted that the Blacksmith's apprentice could get her stomach clenching like this; just from his eyes on her.

"She is not feeling her best and must go lay down," Margaret said, putting a hand on Elizabeth's back and giving her a smile and within that instant, Elizabeth knew. Margaret, her big sister and forever her protector, could read into her mind and know that Elizabeth was not yet prepared for the conversation Hershel wanted to have with her.

Elizabeth could almost cry with her gratitude but she merely nodded and put a hand to her forehead. "It is a bit warm in here," she said.

"We'll take her back," Sir Daryl said then in his gruff voice, surprising her by speaking at all.

Elizabeth looked back to him but his face was blank to her. She wondered if he was able to read her though and see that she wasn't actually falling ill and that she simply had to get out of there this instant.

"Thank you, Sir Daryl," Beth said and gave him a slight curtsy.

She could feel Margaret looking at her but she didn't dare look at her sister then because unlike how she was incapable of reading Sir Daryl, Margaret could read her without issue and she did not want her sister to know her secret. Not now.

She gave hugs to Margaret and Hershel and promised them that next Sunday, she would feel better and her visit with them would be longer and her father kissed her head, making her promise that she would send for him if she needed him for anything. And she smiled because that was who her father was. He did absolutely anything for his children and loved nothing more in this world. She wasn't angry with him. There was no reason to be angry with him. Hershel was simply doing what fathers did with daughters. He was seeing that she be married and he knew nothing of Sir Daryl so how could he have possibly known of her feelings towards him and made that match?

Elizabeth left the inn and headed back up the muddy path to the keep, behind two men of the garrison, holding two of the offenders, and she was aware of Sir Daryl walking behind her with his own man and she told herself that he wasn't but she swore she could feel his eyes on her.

And just the idea of him looking at her, it did nothing to help with the flush on her cheeks.

Walking across the bridge and back within the keep walls, Laird Richard was standing on the steps, waiting for them, and Lady Lori stood beside him with Judith in her arms. When Lady Lori saw her, she frowned a little with confusion and then beckoned for her to come.

"Are you well?" Lady Lori asked, placing a gentle cool hand on Elizabeth's forehead.

"I am, my Lady," Elizabeth answered truthfully. Now that she was away from the inn and her father's matchmaking, she was perfectly fine. "It was very warm in my sister's inn this afternoon and I fear it was beginning to get to me."

"Well, then you must come and get some rest before the evening meal," Lady Lori said, shifting her daughter into one arm and then gently taking Elizabeth's hand with her other.

And as she walked up the keep steps and almost disappeared inside, Elizabeth turned one last time to look at Sir Daryl and she couldn't help but gasp because there was no denying it this time to herself. This time, the man was definitely staring at her and no one else but her.

…

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 **I love telling this stupid, silly story. Thank you very much for reading and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The mood struck the muse for an update to this story.**

 **Also, if you don't like this story - or any of the stories I write - please don't leave me cruel comments because you _do_ succeed in really crushing my feelings. Just stop reading. Please. That's all you have to do. **

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…

 **V.**

"When was the last time you laid with a woman, Daryl?" Richard asked the question which Daryl promptly ignored, continuing to advance on the man and push him further into the corner of the training ring.

It was no mystery to Daryl why Richard never seemed able to beat him while sparring. The man allowed himself to become too distracted. They were in the middle of fighting and Richard still put his attention on things other than fighting. Daryl knew that as Laird of the Keep, Richard's mind would be distracted with far more things than Daryl's mind would be but wondering the last time Daryl had laid with a woman should _not_ have been a thought Richard should have been having; certainly not one that should be distracting him from the task at hand. Richard was Laird of these men and he had to be able to lead them into battle; not get beaten by Daryl each time they met in the ring.

Daryl finished the fight quickly, able to knock Richard's sword from his hand into the air, where he was able to catch it with his other. And with the two swords, Daryl pointed them both at Richard's throat.

"Lost again, my Laird," Daryl told him gruffly but Richard just smiled and shook his head.

"Forgive me. I am distracted," Richard said and Daryl nearly snorted at that but instead, he simply handed the Laird back his blade. "Will you walk with me for a bit?" He then asked.

Daryl knew that even though it was a question, Richard hadn't truly asked. If Daryl truly had to stay in the lists with the other men, Richard would understand but Daryl knew that he couldn't give that answer. Richard wanted him to join him on a walk and Richard may have been his brother but he was his Laird above that and he would go for a walk with him.

They sheathed their blades as they left the lists and began walking towards the bailey.

"How do the men progress?" Richard asked.

Daryl nodded truthfully. "Their skill improves each day," he answered as he always did when asked for his report – short and directly to the point.

Richard nodded and was quiet for a moment, thinking that over. "At Carl's birthday feast, I was talking with another of the Lairds. Laird Phillip. We might have a match between Carl and Philip's daughter, Penny. They have invited us to come to his keep for a visit."

"How long?" Daryl asked, his stomach already heavy with what Richard was going to say.

"A fortnight if all goes well," Richard said. "I would have you come with me."

Damn it. That's what Daryl had been dreading though he knew it shouldn't have been surprising. He was Laird Richard's right hand man and where the Laird went, Daryl went as well. And normally, he did not mind the travels so much – mainly because he was given liberty to sleep outside with the horses and other men and he was always so thankful that he did not have to be involved with the politics as Richard was.

But this time, it was to Laird Phillip's Keep and Daryl had never cared for this man. There was something about him that always made the back of Daryl's neck prick but for what reason, he wasn't sure. The man had never done anything outwardly wrong to earn Daryl's suspicions. It was just a feeling Daryl had when around the man and Daryl rarely – if ever – ignored his gut. His gut had yet to steer him wrong.

"And who would stay here to watch over the Keep in our absence?" Daryl asked.

"Shane," Richard answered and Daryl found no reason to argue. After Daryl, Shane was the most skilled soldier that the Keep had and Daryl knew that Shane would be able to continue seeing to the men and their training while also keeping their land guarded and safe.

"And why do you wish for me to come with you?" Daryl asked despite knowing the answer.

"Because, Daryl," Richard said and clapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I would not travel anywhere and not have you at my side."

They both heard the crying of a babe at the same time and both turned their heads to see Elizabeth step from the side door of the Keep, baby Judith in her arms, crying up a storm. Beth didn't look the least bit frazzled. She bounced the babe gently in her arms and brushed hair back from her damp and flushed face and sang a gentle song of maidens and sparrows to her, though Daryl doubted that Judith heard a word.

It had been a few days since he had last seen her. Three. Not that Daryl would count something like that; when he had gone to the inn her sister apparently owned down in the village and had walked her back up to the Keep. She had said that her head was aching and he had kept his eyes on her the entire time they walked, wanting to make sure she was alright. His hands had been full with Randall, the troublemaker, but if Beth even took one swaying step, he would have knocked Randall over to catch her.

She hadn't, of course, and they had all reached the Keep in one piece. And once she had gone up the steps with Lady Lori, he hadn't seen her again for the next few days. And though he had been curious as to where she was – maybe even slightly (very) concerned – Daryl hadn't wanted to ask about her because he had no reason to be worried over the nursemaid. As far as anyone in the Keep was concerned, they didn't even know one another. And Daryl wanted to keep it that way. He was fairly certain he did anyway.

"Lady Lori will be accompanying me, as well," Richard continued, still watching Judith and Elizabeth. "And Judith will be making her first official journey and with her coming, Elizabeth, of course, will be coming then also."

Before he could stop himself, Daryl's eyes snapped over to look at Richard.

Richard slowly moved his own eyes to look at him with a slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "She is a very beautiful young woman and is not promised to anyone," Richard said. "I've spoken to her father about it. He has been thinking of making a match for her but none have been made yet."

Daryl just kept staring at his oldest friend. _How_ had Richard figured out that Daryl had any sort of thoughts which involved Beth? He hadn't done anything to raise suspicions. He did what his duty required him to do and that was to look after the people of the Keep and Beth was one of those within the Keep. It had simply been his responsibility to look after her.

"It has been too long since you've last been with a woman," Richard than continued from where he had begun earlier.

Daryl scowled fiercely at him though. "I'm not going to defile some innocent maid."

Richard's eyes widened and he almost let out a laugh more from shock than anything else.

"And that is not at all what I was suggesting," Richard assured him, patting his shoulder again.

He said nothing else though and Daryl didn't press him to continue talking. He was done listening anyway and his head now ached. Yes, it had been quite some time since the last time he had been with a woman but that was entirely his choice. His mind was far too full of other things to focus it on a woman – even for just a little bit of time. Richard had put him in charge of the entire Garrison and that was not a task to be taken lightly. Daryl took his post seriously and would not fail anyone – not Richard nor anyone in the Keep nor any of the men. He didn't have the time nor the energy to think of anything except that.

And it certainly had nothing to do with no one interesting him except one lady as of late.

Richard continued walking forward, across the bailey towards Elizabeth and Judith, and Daryl wasn't sure why but he stayed beside him.

When Elizabeth saw them approach, she dipped into a curtsy. "My Laird. Sir Daryl."

He would probably never understand why she insisted on calling him Sir Daryl when she had been told time and time again that he wasn't a Sir. He had no title to his name and he never would. It didn't matter that he was so close with Richard and that they were practically brothers. He hadn't been born into a title and therefore, a title would never be his. He didn't doubt that Elizabeth already knew all of that. She was just choosing to ignore it for some reason unbeknownst to him.

"And how is this little one today?" Richard asked, taking Judith from Beth's arms into his.

"Teething, my Laird," Elizabeth said, smoothing some of the babe's light hair that was sticking up in the breeze that blew that morn. "Cook said we should rub some wine on her gums to help with the pain but I did not wish to do that without speaking with you or Lady Lori beforehand."

Richard smirked a little as he bounced his daughter. "You do what you feel is right, Elizabeth. We have reached that point where you know what is best for Judith."

Elizabeth bowed her head at that. "Thank you, my Laird."

As the two continued talking of Judith's new teeth beginning to form and push through her gums, Daryl could not help himself in looking to Beth, doing his best to make sure that anyone looking over to the trio standing there would not be able to tell where his eyes were. She was wearing her brown gown today. Most of the serving women wore gowns of brown or muted green so no attention was brought to them and like all servants, they could stand in the background of the Keep's life and be forgotten. But when Beth wore the plain gowns, they did nothing to hide her presence.

How was she not promised to anyone? How was no other man vying for her affection?

The world was shit and blood and she was the only flower left blooming in the pile of it.

He nearly shook his head at the thought. He hated himself for having such thoughts. He had other things to think about. Far more important things than a nursemaid and her future husband – whoever that might be because it wasn't going to be him. Why would it be? Matches were made when it could be vital to both the man and the girl's father. He knew her father was a farmer for some of the Laird's lands with little of his own and he, himself, was nothing but a soldier. He could do nothing except offer Beth protection but he would do that whether they were married or not. Her father would probably want her to marry a man who didn't live with a sword always in his hand and a crossbow on his back.

Damn Richard for putting these thoughts further in his mind than they already were.

He did not wish to get married and it did not matter to him whether Beth was promised to another man for marriage or not. He enjoyed watching her from afar, allowing him the minutes of distraction before she was gone and he was able to get back to his tasks that truthfully needed his attention.

That was enough for him.

"Are you, Sir Daryl?"

The question jolted him from his thoughts and he snapped to attention. It took him a moment's pause to realize that Richard – with Judith – was gone and now, it was just him and Beth standing to the side of the Keep. He couldn't help but frown. How the hell long had it just been the two of them standing there?

"What?" He asked her and his voice was too gruff even to his own ears. He cleared his throat and looked to her, which he knew was a mistake because the instant he looked to her face, he couldn't look at anything else. "I'm sorry," he then said in a quieter tone.

Beth just smiled faintly up at him. "Are you eager for the journey we are taking?" She asked.

"No," he answered immediately, truthfully, with a shake of his head. He then looked down to her to see that she was still smiling up at him. She seemed amused and he could see her eyes dancing as if she was trying to keep herself from laughing. "Are you eager for the journey?" He then asked.

It didn't surprise him when she nodded, her smile growing in size as if truly pleased that he had asked her the question in return. He honestly was surprised he had. He hadn't thought that he would want to encourage this between them. Not that there was the slightest thing between them that could be encouraged. He looked at her too often – more than he should – but that was all it was. She was just something nice to look at.

"I have never traveled anywhere before," she said. "There's a whole world out there and all I've seen are our lands."

"Nothing wrong with our lands," Daryl commented and without thinking much of it, he turned and leaned back against the stone wall behind him. "Not better than some but better than others."

Elizabeth stood before him and he looked at her and he wondered how it was possible that the sun was shining that morn but it seemed to only be shining upon her.

"Have you seen much of the world, Sir Daryl?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I've spilled my fair share of blood on enough land," he answered. He answered her inquiry that way on purpose. Let her remember what kind of man he was.

And her smile had faded a little but she was still standing there. She had not excused herself to go back into the Keep and collect Judith once again. She still stood in front of him, looking at him; looking as if she was waiting for him to say something further but what, he didn't know. He didn't talk to women – especially women like Elizabeth. Beth.

"I am eager," she then said again in a softer voice and she tilted her face up towards the sun, closing her eyes, allowing the rays to warm her. And that smile was still on her face and in that moment, to Daryl, in his eyes, she really did look like a flower.

He thought of spending a fortnight with this woman – away from the prying eyes of this Keep – and as Richard and Lady Lori played their roles with Laird Phillip and his wife, making a possible marriage arrangement and alliance between their children and lands, Daryl thought of him having to stay close with Beth.

"Why has your father not promised you to a man?" He spoke suddenly and the question came so abruptly, for a moment, he was not even positive that he had asked it.

But he knew he had because Beth looked at him with slightly wide eyes, clearly taken aback.

Daryl pushed himself off the wall. "Forgive me," he mumbled, no longer able to look at her, the back of his neck feeling particular warm to him now.

He had to return to the lists. He had been gone for too long already.

He turned to leave but before he could take his first step, Beth spoke.

"I have yet to have a man show interest in me."

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please comment!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I love lazy Sundays and when the muse feels like writing.**

 **I have the next few chapters planned out and I'm excited for what I have come up with.**

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…

 **VI.**

Laird Philip's keep was just a day's journey away and Elizabeth was thankful for that. She was eager to be traveling but she did not wish to have to spend the night out on the open road for even with Sir Daryl and all of the other men Laird Richard had with them, keeping watch and protecting them, that was never a safe prospect. Too many bandits and enemies crept about in the darkness and anything could happen if they had to stop.

She rode in the carriage with Judith in her arms and Lady Lori across from her, Lady Lori's lady-in-waiting, Amy, at her side. Amy was eager for the journey for her own reasons. Her older sister, Andrea, was Laird Philip's wife and the two sisters had not seen one another since Carl's birthday feast. Elizabeth understood her excitement. She was lucky enough to have her own sister living just in the village and was able to see her every Sunday. She did not know what she would do with herself if there was such distance between them.

She heard the trotting of horse steps on all sides of the carriage and she could not help but wonder where Sir Daryl was riding. Perhaps up front with Laird Richard. That would seem the most logical place for him as Laird Richard had said more than once that Sir Daryl was his right hand man and he always wanted the man at his side.

She thought of the short time they had shared together just two days prior. They had actually spoken with one another for more than a moment and thinking about it now, it still made her heart beat at a rabbit's pace beneath her breast. He was such a formidable man but Elizabeth had never felt truly nervous around him for even when he was wearing the permanent scowl across his face, she had trusted him and known that he would protect her. When with him, she always felt so safe.

He had asked her about men and promises and she had nearly blurted out to him about James, the blacksmith's apprentice, but she had been able to bite her tongue before she did. There was no reason to mention him because her father hadn't mentioned him further to her. It seemed as if Margaret had been able to talk to their father about the betrothal and stopping it before it could become that.

Elizabeth knew her father was perhaps a bit more modern than most fathers in this world and she was grateful to have him as hers. Her happiness meant everything to him. He wasn't about to just marry her off to the man with the most; a man perhaps who wouldn't treat her well. Hershel wanted the best for his children and if Margaret had sat with him and told him that Elizabeth had no interest in James, Hershel was the kind of father who would stop making further marriage arrangements and look for another man.

Sir Daryl filled her thoughts – as he did most moments of time when she had one to spare. Would it be possible to have a betrothal set between them? Her father, of course, had no knowledge of the man and _she_ certainly couldn't bring up the topic to either man. That was not the way it was done. Arrangements were made between father and man and women were oftentimes nothing more than cattle, passed between owners. Elizabeth was lucky to have a father who wanted a man for his daughter who might grow to love her but there lied the bigger problem. She doubted very much so that Sir Daryl could ever love her and he certainly would never wish to marry her.

There could never be a betrothal set between them because Sir Daryl would never even _think_ of speaking to her father about it. And why would he? The man was one of the most handsome and sought after in all the keep – even he was not aware of such affections many of the women held towards him. She listened to the giggles of the kitchen girls and other servants whenever Sir Daryl was near and Elizabeth felt a tightening of envy in her stomach as she listened; as if she had _any_ right to be envious of their desiring the man. Elizabeth understood their desires all too much.

The carriage began to slow and the movement jostled at a slumbering Judith, the baby beginning to whimper before she even would open her eyes. Elizabeth rocked her gently and she peeked around the flap that covered the windows, seeing that they were now weaving their way through the village that laid beneath Laird Philip's keep.

"You have a natural touch with her, Elizabeth," Lady Lori spoke then and Elizabeth turned her head to see the woman smiling across from her.

Elizabeth smiled as well. "She makes it easy for me, my Lady," she replied and Lady Lori continued smiling. "My arms will miss her when she is too big to be held any longer."

"By then, God willing, you will have babes of your own to care for," Lady Lori said.

"God willing," Elizabeth echoed in a whisper and of course, though she wished that it wouldn't, her mind went to thoughts again of those consisting of Sir Daryl and a little cottage with little children and flowers growing around them.

She wished she had the strength within herself to stop these images. She knew they were just wishes and would never happen. If Sir Daryl was to marry, it would not be to her but it seemed like no matter how often she told herself this or knew how truthful it was, she still could not seem to help herself.

The carriage stopped and they heard the men dismount from their horses and a moment later, the door to the carriage opened and Laird Richard stood there with a smile.

"Come, my Lady," the Laird smiled at his wife and with her own smile, she took his hand and he helped her down from the carriage. Amy followed and then turned, taking Judith so Elizabeth could climb down as well.

With the babe back in her arms, Elizabeth looked up to the keep. It appeared to be the same size of their keep back home and yet, there was something different about this one. It seemed darker, somehow. Colder. She subconsciously held Judith tighter to her chest.

All around her, she saw the Garrison of men seeing to the wagon that the Laird and Lady had brought with them as well as to the horses and she tried to find Sir Daryl in the seemingly organized chaos. Elizabeth saw Laird Philip standing on the steps with his wife, Amy's sister, Andrea, at his side, both with smiles on their faces upon seeing their neighbor's party arrive safely. The Lairds and Ladies exchanged claps of hands and kisses on the cheek, smiles and pleasantries and Elizabeth wasn't sure why but looking up Laird Philip's smile, it made her hold onto Judith even tighter. There was something about the man she did not like even from just glancing at him from afar. His smile seemed empty.

She watched as Amy hugged her sister with warmth and enthusiasm and then Carl was brought forward, his father's hand on his shoulder. And then Phillip's daughter from his first marriage – his first wife having been passed on years earlier from this earth – was brought forward. A girl who looked like her father with long brown hair and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was possibly two summers younger than Carl and the two stared at one another, not exchanging a word as their own parents talked.

Elizabeth felt her heart reach out towards Carl because even standing where she was, she could tell that the boy did not wish to be there. Nor did Penny. They were looking at one another as if they were hoping someone else would magically take their place. Laird Richard and Lady Lori were good, kind people who loved their son but they had duties and obligations to see to and unfortunately for Carl, he was to be used for their benefit whether he liked the outcome or not.

She knew of more than one person who dreamt of being a higher station than the one they were born into but for Elizabeth, she had never had such thoughts. It would be easier, of course, in some aspects. Always having food on their table and a roof over one's head as they slept at night. But at least she didn't have to worry about politics or the responsibilities that came with having to care for and protect so many.

Again, she couldn't help but search the crowd for Sir Daryl's face. She wished she knew where he was because if she saw him, maybe he could help unsettle the knot pulling in the pit of her stomach.

"Elizabeth," but Lady Lori said her name before Elizabeth could find him and she snapped her eyes to attention. The Lady smiled at her warmly. "Come. We're being shown to our chambers," she informed her and Elizabeth nodded, hoisting Judith up into one arm and gathering her skirts in her other hand so she wouldn't trip upon them as she climbed the steps into the Keep.

Lady Andrea showed her to a small chamber that was located next to where Laird Richard and Lady Lori would be sleeping; a chamber which had a small cradle for Judith and a pallet for Elizabeth. There were rugs on the floor and a roaring fire in the hearth and nothing else.

"I apologize," Lady Andrea said to Lady Lori as Elizabeth looked over the accommodations that would be hers and Judith's for the next fortnight. "It has been many years since Penny was of the age where she slept in a cradle. We borrowed one from a woman in the village."

Lady Lori smiled though Elizabeth could see that it did not quite reach her eyes. "There is no need for apologies. Is there, Elizabeth?"

Both women looked at her and Elizabeth shook her head, her smile coming to her easier than it had for Lady Lori.

"Of course not, my Ladies. This is perfect," she said.

Once Lady Andrea left to see how Carl was faring in his chamber down the hall, Lady Lori's smile disappeared, replaced with a frown as she looked around the small, near empty room.

"If they had visited, we would at least have put tapestries on the walls for _their_ baby," Lady Lori said in a quiet breath, not meant to be heard by anyone except Elizabeth. "And what of you? Having to sleep on the floor like you're no better than a scullery maid."

"It is all well, my Lady," Elizabeth did her best to assure her. "It is not the first bit of floor I have had to sleep upon. The rugs look warm and soft," she then said and as if to prove her point, she lowered herself down onto one and sat Judith down as well, the baby smiling quite happily, not aware of how her mother felt insulted by her accommodations.

"I cannot wait to see what the evening meal holds for us," Lady Lori said, still clearly not pleased and the frown staying in place on her face.

But Elizabeth could see nothing wrong with supper that night in the Great Hall. The roasted boar seemed to practically melt on her tongue as she ate and fed bits to Judith, the baby happily sitting in her lap and slapping her hands upon the table.

Elizabeth sat upon the raised dais with the rest of the family only because Lady Lori had insisted. She would not have Lord Philip and Lady Andrea forget that baby Judith was to be a lady as well someday and should be treated as such. And Elizabeth was very much an extension of Judith so where the babe went, Elizabeth would as well.

From her elevated seat, she could see the rest of those seated out in the crowded Hall and she saw Sir Daryl sitting with the other men in the Garrison that had come with them, eating his boar and drinking his wine and chuckling at whatever the other men were saying around him. To anyone else, he would look completely at ease with being there but Elizabeth admitted that she had watched him enough to pick on the subtle signs and even from where she sat, she could see the slight tenseness, tight across his shoulders.

After the meal and the Lairds and Ladies were speaking of Carl and Penny, Judith began to fuss and Elizabeth excused herself in a quiet voice to Lady Lori to take Judith away for the night. Fresh air always helped settle Judith and she carried the baby out a door near the kitchens that took her outside to the side of the keep, near the stables.

"I do not like her, Uncle!"

Elizabeth heard and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the yard but then, by light of the torches lit along the path, she could see that it was Carl and Sir Daryl, standing at one of the stable stalls, Sir Daryl brushing down his mare – a black creature as large as his rider which he had named Fowler.

"That doesn't matter," Sir Daryl grunted back to the boy. "Your parents think it will be a good match and that will be that."

"She talks of nothing except her needlework," Carl continued as if the man had said nothing at all. "I will never have anything in common with her."

"You don't have to talk with her to have a marriage," Sir Daryl said.

Elizabeth heard that and frowned. That seemed like a horrible thing to say not only to the boy but about marriage as a whole.

"I won't do it," Carl said stubbornly. "I will never love her."

"You will do it because it is what your father wants and you have no alternative," Sir Daryl responded. "And love has even less to do with a marriage than talking with your wife."

"Mother and papa love one another," Carl pointed out.

"I have been with your father for many years and he said less than kind things about your mother the first time he met her."

Carl sighed heavily. "But that was then. Not now. I want to be happy with my wife as papa is happy with mother."

Sir Daryl paused in his brushing of Fowler to look at the boy and Elizabeth found herself nearly holding her breath for how the man would respond to that. She found herself both hopeful and fearful for what he might say.

"Then earn knowledge of needlework or get yourself a mistress as quickly as you can."

Elizabeth nearly gasped out loud and she could not explain why she felt her stomach plummet at that. She found herself not caring whether Judith was calm or not. She could no longer stand out here and hear the conversation. She could no longer breathe.

In a flutter of skirts, Elizabeth hurried back inside of the Keep, wishing she could banish the words from her mind though even as she made that wish, it did nothing to stop them from echoing over and over in her ears.

She had no cause to feel hurt or disappointed by Sir Daryl's words. Yet, hearing him say such things, hurt and disappointed were exactly what she felt.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and for your enthusiastic support of this story. I hope you liked this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

…

 **VII.**

It wasn't as if he was imagining it. He found out almost rather quickly that something had happened with Elizabeth. He just had no idea what it could be that would make her angry with him. Not exactly angry but she wasn't exactly happy when she found herself around him. Instead of smiling at him as she always did when their eyes met by chance, her face remained impassive – as if being around him was simply a part of her duty and it was something to get over and done with. But what really informed him that she now had ill feelings towards him happened the morning just after their arrival at Laird Phillip's keep.

After everyone in the Hall broke their fast, Richard and Phillip went off to Phillip's solar, more than likely to discuss an arrangement between son and daughter and Ladies Lori and Andrea went off with their ladies-in-waiting, to do whatever Ladies of a Keep did together. Daryl looked to the men in the Garrison who had made the journey with them and told them that they would continue their training. Laird Phillip had already made an offer of his lists to them, saying that the two groups from both Lairds should learn how to train and share and work together since it would seem like both of their families would be close from now on.

Daryl had done his best to hide his frown when Laird Philips had said that. He would not go against what Richard thought was best for their Keep and family. And if he thought that this alliance was one that was needed, Daryl would do what he had to do to support his Laird and friend even inside his mind, he thought there were other Lairds far more worthy.

He had been watching Beth throughout most of the meal though he made sure to do it in such a way where it would not be obvious to any. Something seemed amiss with her. She seemed tired, faint circles visible beneath her eyes. He knew this was her first time away from the Keep and their lands and perhaps she had had difficulty sleeping in strange surroundings. He wished to ask her if she was alright but he knew that he did not have the right. Whether or not the nursemaid was alright should not have been any of his concern.

She stood and stepped carefully down from the dais. Judith, also, seemed upset and agitated this morn. Perhaps, she was able to pick up on her nurse's mood or perhaps the babe, herself, had not slept that well the night before neither.

Beth nearly always carried a cloth with her to wipe at Judith's mouth when she ate or drooled and as Beth stepped down and began to walk near the door to carry the babe outside, the cloth slipped from her arm and fluttered to the ground without her noticing. Daryl moved on reflex and went to pick it up.

"Elizabeth," he said her name gruffly and then cleared his throat because it was far too gruff of a voice for a lady like Beth to hear.

She turned at the sound of her name and saw that it was him. She did not smile as he had come to expect and it only made him frown because this lady always seemed to have a smile for him. And seeing that she was not smiling, he felt his own frown grow deeper.

"Thank you, Daryl," Beth said as she took the cloth from him and she turned then without letting her eyes linger on him and he watched as she left the Great Hall through a side door and went outside.

Daryl felt himself rooted to the same spot, unable to move for a passing moment.

Daryl. She had just called him Daryl with no _Sir_ title before it. She had never done that before and though he had told her more than once – as had others – that there was no Sir before his name, she had been adamant of keeping the name. And now, she was no longer using it. What had happened for her to suddenly just stop? And why did he miss now that it was gone? He hadn't wanted her to use it because he had not earned such a title and he had never understood why she had been stubborn in her use of it.

His eyes followed after the path with which she had just taken. Something had happened in just a few hours; since he had seen her last. But what, he hadn't the faintest idea.

And he admitted that it distracted him for the hours to come. Men in the lists should not have been able to best him did, which only added to his frustration. Frustration that he was allowing himself to be distracted and frustration because something was wrong with Elizabeth – with Beth – and he had no idea what it might be. Had one of Laird Phillip's men approach her and perhaps try something they should not have tried? Did they succeed?

Daryl brought his sword around and nearly took of the man's head with whom he was sparring. He did not care. It was one of the men in Laird Phillip's Garrison and if Daryl did bring injury to him, he would simply say that the men here needed more training. And if one of them _had_ hurt Beth or had even though about hurting Beth, he could kill a man in such a way to where it would be mistaken for an accident.

They broke at midday when the sun was directly overhead for a bit of something to eat and drink. The men wearily pulled their bodies back towards the Keep for the mid-day meal but Daryl remained in the lists, out of breath and sweating but he had no wish to go inside at the present moment. He would not be able to stand having four walls around him right now. He needed the open space in an attempt to clear his mind. Perhaps without other men surrounding him and the clashing of swords ringing in his ears, he'd be able to find a moment to just breathe and get his thoughts straight.

Perhaps nothing had happened with Beth since their arrival. Perhaps – now that she had seen more of the world, no matter how little that it still was – she had come to realize that there were more men far more worthy of her time than him. Perhaps her affection – if she had any towards him at all – had been vanquished overnight. And that was something good, wasn't it? He questioned to himself. He had told himself that more than once. Her father should find her another man a bit more worthy of being her husband. That was not him nor would it ever be. His hands were too stained with dirt and blood to be a husband to a young woman as pure and good and beautiful as she was.

Perhaps he should take Fowler for a ride. Knowing his horse, he was probably going mad being cooped up in the stable without freedom and Daryl knew he was feeling much the same. He would take the horse and together, they would ride and survey the land's borders; see how much protection Laird Phillip had and how much he was in need of. There was a reason he was hoping for an alliance with Laird Richard as well.

Mind made up, Daryl sheathed his sword once more and left the lists, heading for the stables instead of the Keep. No one would be worried over his absence. Even back at home, he often missed the midday meal, always having too much to do to take the needed break.

He strode up the hill towards the stables, grateful now that he had a plan that would hopefully keep certain things from his mind that he did not wish to have there anyway.

As soon as Fowler saw his owner, he stomped his hoof onto the floor and neighed, shaking his head fiercely. Daryl nearly smiled as he rubbed a hand down the beast's neck. He looked, wondering if Laird Phillip had a man who worked in the stables, but after a moment, seeing no one, Daryl decided he did not have to wait. He was more than capable of saddling his own horse.

"No!"

The sharp cry echoed through the quietness of the stable and Daryl immediately tensed. That was a female voice and it certainly was said with fear and panic. Daryl left the stables, his fingers curling around the handle of his blade. He took pause, deciding which direction it had come from and he looked around. No one else seemed to be concerned or to even have heard the woman.

But then he heard rustling of clothes and it became all too clear what was taking place. And whoever it was, the woman did not wish for it to be done to her.

Daryl strode around the side of the stables and he found them – a pair of them in the dirt on the ground. A man trying to untie his breeches and a woman… Within a second's time, Daryl's eyesight turned red. Beth. Beth trying to push the man away even as he pushed her dress up her legs. Beth crying out again and trying to get away. Daryl did not hesitate nor did he think over the situation. He did not care who's man it was. Either Laird Phillip's or one of their own. It did not matter. It was a being lower than a man, prepared to take complete advantage of Beth as she cried and struggled in the dirt.

Drawing his sword, he came to the man and standing behind him, standing over both of them, he brought the blade to the man's throat. Beth saw him and her eyes widened and the man immediately stilled but Daryl did not care that he very quickly learned his mistake. Without pause or thought, Daryl dragged the blade across the man's throat, blood pouring out, some raining down on Beth's dress and skin. Daryl pushed the man – now dead – to the side and he fell heavily to the ground. Too late, he realized that he should not have killed the man whilst he was still on top of Beth for she now was stained in his blood but it was too late to take the actions back. He did not regret killing him and would gladly do it again but he was sorry that Beth had to witness him doing such an act.

Beth was trembling, tears still on her cheeks, and he knelt down beside her, sliding his sword back in its sheath.

"I had an ache in my head," Beth said though he did not prompt her to explain and he heard her words tremble as she slowly sat up, and before he could prevent himself from doing it, he placed a hand lightly on her back. "He offered to show me where lavender grew near the Keep. He…" she could say no more and dissolved into a fresh batch of tears and he did not need her to say anything further. Daryl had heard enough.

He stood up and then slipped his arms beneath Beth, easily scooping her up and she gasped at the sudden move. Without a word, he carried her into the Keep. She had another man's blood on her and she had to get herself washed straight away or else it would stain.

Once a man's blood stained your skin, it was hard to get clean again.

…

"This is how you run your Keep, Richard? A man can kill any other at their own will?" Phillip asked the man, his scowl set on his face as Daryl stood there, as still as stone and as silent as one, and Beth stood beside him. She had changed gowns and her hair was still damp from the bath that Lady Lori had immediately ordered been drawn for her.

Richard matched the man's frown. "Is _this_ how you run yours?" He fired back. "Men are free to take advantage of any woman they see?"

"My man saw a beautiful woman who was not promised to another," Phillip said. "And _your_ trusted captain took it upon himself to serve his own justice."

Daryl's jaw clenched so tightly, his teeth ached, and he wished for nothing more than the opportunity to punch Phillip across his own jaw. But Richard knew his friend well and he had placed him strategically between the two other men. Daryl looked down to Beth, who was silent and staring at the floor, and he could still see her body shaking with slight trembles. He knew what Phillip was trying to do. He was trying to twist the truth of what truly happened and he was trying to sully Beth's reputation in the process; that what had nearly happened had been her fault.

And just as he did not think of slitting that man's throat, he did not think it through now.

"She is promised though," Daryl spoke, his voice low, laced with his bubbling fury, and Richard and Phillip both stared at him. He could see, from the corner of his eye, Beth lift her head to look at him but he did not look at her. He did not take his eyes from Phillip. He was no longer going to call this man _Laird_ in his mind.

"That is right," Richard spoke, quick to catch on to what his brother's intent was. "Elizabeth is promised to Daryl and Daryl was simply protecting what is his."

Phillip looked at Daryl for a moment longer before looking to Richard. "You did not say that until this moment?"

"Whether she was promised to be wed or not is no excuse for what your man did," Richard said in reply and he may have seemed completely calm but Daryl knew his friend and Laird well. Richard's eyes were turning dark and his body was growing tense with his own anger growing, ready to snap.

"When are you to be wed?" Phillip asked, ignoring Richard's comment and looking back to Daryl.

Daryl did not miss a beat. This man was hoping to catch Daryl in the lie and Daryl would not trip. "At summer's end," he said for no other reason other than it was far enough away and they would have returned to their own Keep by then and it would no longer matter to Phillip about the wedding between two servants beneath him.

Phillip, though, broke into a smile then. A smile that was cold and did not reach his eyes. "Why wait that long? You surely see how desired your intended wife is to other men. You should marry her tomorrow. We will get our Priest to perform the ceremony and then, after that, you can kill whatever man you wish."

Richard looked to Daryl but Daryl said nothing, his jaw still clenched and his eyes still set on Phillip. "Splendid idea, Laird Phillip," Richard agreed. "Thank you for the offer. We must send for Elizabeth's father though. He is a loyal man to me and I would not have him miss his daughter's wedding."

"Send for him this instant then so he might not miss this happy occasion," Phillip responded with that same cold smile, seeming to know that he had just trapped Daryl without giving him the chance of an escape.

On the outside, Daryl appeared to be thinking of nothing but on the inside, his head was pounding like a drum. He and Beth were to be married? Tomorrow?

His simple lie had been spun away from him so quickly, he couldn't grasp it again. And what of Beth? He had taken her chance of actually having a husband whom she might love away from her. She would be bound to him forever now and what did he have to offer her?

He should speak up now. Telling the lie had been the coward's way out and no one could ever accuse him of being anything resembling a coward. He should have stood up to this man and told him that he had killed his man like the whoreson he was and he would be glad to take whatever punishment was given to him.

But instead, he was now to be married. To Beth.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I still can't get over how many people love this story. Just please remember that I have to be in a particular mood to write this one so just have patience and I will update when I can. I hope you like this chapter. I'm already excited to write the wedding night!**

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…

 **VIII.**

 _"And love has even less to do with a marriage than talking with your wife."_

 _"Get yourself a mistress as quickly as you can."_

Elizabeth heard his words tumble about in her mind, echoing over and over again, taunting her, as Lady Lori stood behind her, combing out her hair. She was speaking and Elizabeth was doing her best to listen to the words coming from her Lady's mouth but she could only hear Daryl's words and the advice he had given to young Carl on marriage; thoughts that had clearly echoed his own personal thoughts on the matter.

And now, he was the man she was to marry and if this turn of events had taken place just a few days prior, Elizabeth would have been bouncing around the room, eager with anticipation at marrying Daryl. Her Sir Daryl. It would have felt as if her dreams had all just come true and she was going to be marrying the man with who she was falling in love.

But then she had heard what he had said to Carl and since then, her mind had been so muddled in regards to her thoughts of the man. Her feelings towards him were still there but now, her vision of him was dimmed. He was no valiant _Sir_ after all, as she had been so convinced of, and now, she saw herself bound to this man and loving him while he went off and loved other women.

It gave a pain to her stomach that made her feel as if she would empty all of its contents on the floor.

He had saved her from that man and had protected her reputation from Laird Phillip when the man had begun to suggest that _she_ had been the one at fault for what had transpired. He had spoken quickly and all she had been able to do was look at him and not speak up. She was too afraid to speak up for if she did and said that they weren't actually promised to one another, what would happen to Daryl? He had killed one of Laird Phillip's men and surely, he would be punished for that.

Elizabeth couldn't have him be punished because he had killed that man for her.

"Please do not be frightened," Lady Lori was saying to her as she finished with her plaiting of some of Elizabeth's hair and Elizabeth was finally able to tune in with what she was saying to her. "It _can_ be frightening, yes, but if your husband is gentle and cares for you, it will be better in time."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? _If your husband cares for you._

They were to be married but it seemed as if her soon-to-be husband would care for any woman besides the one he gave vows to. And she hadn't even thought of tonight. Her wedding night. She felt her stomach clench even tighter at just the mere idea of tonight. She had been to a few wedding feasts in the past and she knew what was to transpire and in the morning, Daryl would have to present the bed sheet to her father and Laird Richard that showed that she had truly been a maiden.

She knew what to expect tonight – for the most part. With her mother been dead for years now, Margaret had taken it upon herself to make sure that her younger sister was not completely ignorant when it came to the matters between men and their wives. None of it had seemed exactly pleasant though and even now, though Lady Lori was doing her best to put her ease, she was doing nothing but making her more nervous for this night.

"The bedding and every night after is really the husband's job," Lady Lori continued on. "You are to simply lie there and let him do what he must and you are expected to do nothing except take hold of his seed."

Elizabeth felt the back of her neck flush.

"All will be well. I know he seems like a rough man, but Daryl has been my husband's closest friend for many years now. He is gruff but he is kind."

Elizabeth did not comment on that for he _had_ certainly showed her moments of kindness. Slitting a man's throat to keep her safe was at the utmost top of that list now. And yet, she could not forget his words from the stable.

 _"Get yourself a mistress as quickly as you can."_

In her daydreams of herself with Daryl in their little cottage, she had never thought that perhaps she would be sharing her husband with another woman. She supposed she had been naïve enough in thinking that when she married a man, he would want no one but her.

She had allowed herself to dream of marrying a man who would marry her and love her.

"My Lady," Elizabeth heard herself gently interrupt. "What if… what if he wishes to have a mistress?" She asked and she was amazed with herself that she was able to get the question out because just saying the word made her throat feel as if it was burning.

The Lady's hands did not waiver as they began working on another plait. "It is the wife's duty to endure such things."

Elizabeth felt everything within herself sink towards her feet.

"But Daryl is not the sort of man to take a mistress, if that what has you so worried," Lady Lori continued. "I have known him nearly as long as I have known the Laird and he has never seemed to show interest in women. Your soon-to-be husband prefers swordplay to wooing." Only then did her fingers pause. "You must forgive me. I am not doing a very good job at putting your nerves at ease. I am sorry your sister was unable to make the journey."

"No, my Lady," Elizabeth did her best to smile as she turned her head and looked to her Lady. "I am glad you are here with me."

Lady Lori smiled at that and she leaned in then, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth's shoulders and embracing her tightly. And Elizabeth's arms wrapped around her in return, closing her eyes as she hugged her, unaware of how badly she needed the hug until she was given one. She exhaled a shaky breath – she did not mean to – and it reached Lady Lori's ears and her arms tightened.

"I am frightened," Elizabeth confessed in a whisper.

Lady Lori pulled her head back so she could press a kiss to the side of Elizabeth's head. "Courage and faith," Lady Lori then whispered and Elizabeth could do nothing but nod.

Judith, on the animal rug on the floor at the hearth, let out a whimper then and Elizabeth moved to lift the babe up but Lady Lori gave her a tut and picked up her own daughter.

"You must not dirty your dress, Elizabeth," Lady Lori told her with a smile.

Elizabeth did her best to smile in return and she kept her eyes focused on Judith for a few passing moments, the babe looking at her in return as if knowing that Elizabeth was drawing strength from her.

Elizabeth always knew she was expected to marry. She could not be a nursemaid forever. Unless the Laird and Lady had another babe, when Judith grew and was no longer in need of a maid, Elizabeth's duty was no longer needed and she would be able to go and have her own children. And Elizabeth had always been excited for that. She had always wanted to be a mother and she knew she shouldn't but she loved Judith as if she was her own.

But now… what did Daryl want? People were expected to be married and have children. Elizabeth knew that most looked to it as another job they must see it. There seemed to be very little in the way of love matches. Most marriages were arranged when both families involved saw something useful enough in the union. Lady Lori and Laird Richard were an exception for while they had been arranged, they had fallen in love with one another. Margaret and Glenn had been in love with one another before exchanging vows and her father had loved his wife, as well.

Had Elizabeth been a fool to just expect the same for herself? She certainly felt like one.

Lady Lori looked around the small, bare room that held nothing except for the cradle for Judith, the pallet on the floor for Elizabeth and the small chest that held clothes for both Judith and Elizabeth. There was not even a chair to sit on and the Lady frowned once again.

"It is disgraceful," she murmured to herself, looking over the accommodations Laird Phillip and Lady Andrea had given to her daughter and nursemaid. "There is not even a bed for you and Daryl for after the ceremony."

"Where has he been sleeping?" Elizabeth asked, smoothing hands down her dress as it was riddled with wrinkles. It was the gown she wore to church each Sunday; the nicest dress she owned and the dress she was now to be married in.

"The men have been sleeping in the Great Hall each night but I think Daryl has taken to sleeping in the stables with his horse," Lady Lori answered as she gently pulled Judith's fist from her mouth, keeping the baby from gnawing on it. "You need a bed for your wedding night," she said and then with another huff, she looked around the near-bare room once more.

Elizabeth kept quiet. She was flattered that Lady Lori oftentimes seemed to forget that Elizabeth was a servant and her station in life gave her right to very little. She was lucky to even have this bare room in the keep for it was dry and warm in front of the fire and she did not have to sleep in the kitchens with ten others.

"The rugs are very comfortable, my Lady," Elizabeth did her best to assure her.

Laird Phillip was already displeased with her and Daryl and she would do nothing more to have the man perhaps turn on Laird Richard and Lady Lori and ruin the marriage talks for Carl and Penny. Besides, from the sounds of it, the bedding would be painful whether Daryl took her on the floor or in a bed filled with feathers.

She could tell Lady Lori wished to say more but in the end, she simply sighed deeply.

"Come," Lady Lori smiled at Elizabeth. "Let us go see you married."

…

As she came down the steps behind Lady Lori and Judith, Elizabeth still felt as if she was going to be sick in any moment but then she saw her father in the Great Hall, standing with Laird Richard, and the instant she saw him there, she nearly burst into tears.

Not caring for propriety right then, Elizabeth rushed to him and Hershel broke into a smile when he saw her coming and opened his arms, Elizabeth hurrying right into them. He embraced her tightly and kissed her head and Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to keep from crying. There were to be no tears. Laird Phillip and Lady Andrea were here as well and she was to act a happy bride in front of them so they would not be privy to the lie Daryl had told and Elizabeth had helped simply to protect her.

"Your groom is a quiet sort," Hershel said in her ear.

Elizabeth pulled her head back so she could look into her father's face and for the first time that whole morning, she felt herself smiling. "Practically a mute," she agreed and Hershel smiled at her, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently guiding her back a step so he could look her up and down. She wore her plain but clean gown and Lady Lori had plaited sections of her hair and had twisted them up they were both off her back and face.

"You look as beautiful as your mother did on our own wedding day," Hershel smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

And Elizabeth felt tears in her own eyes and she did her best to blink as quickly as she could to rid herself of them. She looked to Laird Richard. "I do not know enough words of gratitude to you, my Laird, for bringing my father here."

Laird Richard smiled at her. "I would not have a father miss his daughter's wedding day."

She then paused, surprised, when Laird Richard leaned in and kissed Elizabeth warmly on her cheek.

"Have patience with him, Elizabeth," he whispered to her. "He is not an easy man but he is a good man."

Elizabeth could do nothing but nod and swallow the lump currently lodged in her throat. Laird Richard smiled at her then and squeezed her arms gently.

It was a wedding ceremony between a nursemaid and soldier and it was to be a simple event. Even as they made their way to one of the fireplaces where Daryl and the Priest already stood, maids around them still continued on with their work in the Great Hall. The only ones present were Laird Richard and Lady Lori, Laird Phillip and Lady Andrea, her father, Hershel, and Carl, now holding Judith. Not even Amy was present to be witness and as Lady Lori's lady, Amy normally went everywhere their Lady did.

Elizabeth looked up at Daryl as he turned his head to look at her. He had changed into cleaner hose and a tunic and his hair was damp and she assumed he had gone to bathe in the river before the ceremony. She almost smiled at the idea of him bathing for her but then she reminded herself that Laird Richard had probably ordered him to and Daryl had not thought to do such a thing for her.

Even with his words still in her mind – _"And love has even less to do with a marriage than talking with your wife." –_ she could still not help herself in thinking that this man who was set to be her husband in just a few minutes time was a handsome man.

Daryl didn't say anything to her; not of how she looked or if she was ready. He simply hesitated a moment and then held his hand out for her to take. And she hesitated for a moment in return before lightly placing her hand in his, hoping that he could not feel the trembles in her fingers as his fingers closed around hers though she knew that he could for he seemed to miss very little.

They stood side by side at the fire, with the Priest standing in front of them and everyone else stood around them, baring witness to their marriage.

Elizabeth wished to look at Daryl. She wished she could look into his face and know what he was thinking but even if she could look at him, she knew this man was an impossible one to read. He was simply here because it was his duty and though it had been most kind of him to make such a sacrifice just as a way to ensure her reputation remained intact, Elizabeth still bit down on her lip to keep herself from weeping.

This was not how she imagined it would be for though in her daydreams, she saw herself standing beside Daryl and in those dreams, they were both happy to be there. Daryl wished to marry her and couldn't wait to do so and everyone was smiling and laughing, a reflection of the bride and groom's own happiness. And flowers. She would have flowers…

She hardly heard a word the Priest said but all she knew was she repeated what she was supposed to when she was supposed to. And she felt lips faint on her cheek and she looked to see that it was Daryl, kissing her on the cheek rather than on the lips, sealing their vows. She tried to meet his eyes with hers but he turned his head away before she could.

"Come," Lady Andrea then smiled at them all. "I have had a small feast prepared for us in celebration."

And that was that. Elizabeth was married and to Daryl and still, the only thing she felt like doing in that moment was sitting down and weeping.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to leave a review!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

…

 **IX.**

This was not a wedding for people of station and the wedding feast was not one of grandeur. But for Daryl, it was still quite the offering. Pheasant and cheese and bread and plenty of ale and wine. He sat beside his bride and ate until he was stuffed and drank until his head spun a bit but he would have to be blind if he failed to notice how little she ate. Around them in the Hall, the men were coming in for their noon meal and they all partook in the celebration, throwing hearty congratulations to both him and Beth.

He looked to Beth sitting beside him and he wanted to ask her if she was alright but he held the question firm on his tongue and didn't say anything.

Of course she wasn't alright. She had practically been forced into marriage to him with a sword at her back and there was little other option for her except to exchange vows with him. Only a woman truly soft in the head would ever willingly and happily marry him and Beth was not that. While protecting her reputation from Laird Phillip and his other men, Daryl had single-handedly ruined her life.

He was not meant to be someone's husband – especially to a pretty girl like the one who now sat beside him, bound to him – but Beth was meant to be someone's wife.

He knew little in ways of the opposite sex. He knew enough to take a tumble with one on occasion and he had never received complaints from any of his previous couplings. But speaking with them, getting knowledgeable of who they were, that had never been his strength. He was a soldier. A Captain in a Garrison, a lofty position, but still, a mere soldier. He lived with a sword on his back. He did not know how to come home each night to a woman, his wife, waiting for him. He did not even have a home. He had a room in the Keep but when it was warm, he preferred to sleep outdoors – either up on one of the battlements or in the stables with the horses. But now, he had a lady wife and she would expect them to have a home of their own.

He glanced towards Beth again. What _did_ she want? He hadn't the slightest clue. He did not know her. They had spoken before, but all of those moments were brief and they had never talked about things of consequence. Would she mind still living in the keep or did she want a cottage in the village? What did she expect? Did she expect him home each night with her?

"Elizabeth's father and I were speaking," Richard spoke from his side, leaning in close so he could keep his voice relatively low but Daryl could still hear him in the noise of the Hall. "We both feel that the bedding ceremony isn't necessary."

Daryl turned and scowled at his friend. He hadn't even known that it had been considered. The bedding ceremony – where Beth would be taken upstairs and bathed and stripped naked before lying down in bed and awaiting her new husband. And he would come with the drunken men present who would practically carry him where they would strip him naked and then all but shove him into bed with Beth before they would leave amongst cheers and callings of telling Daryl to get to work.

He did not even know if this was a real marriage; did not know if Beth felt that it was or was not. And either way, he was not about to make the day even worse for her by making her partake in something as mortifying as a bedding ceremony.

"What of proof?" Daryl asked. "Does her father require it?"

"Hershel?" Richard nearly raised an eyebrow at that. "No, he does not need proof if his daughter has remained chaste or not. Nor do I."

Daryl nearly exhaled a sigh of relief at that. Though this girl, who was now his wife, had occupied his mind for weeks now, giving him little reprieve, and it was his very right now as her husband, he could not imagine her wanting to actually give herself to him tonight. And he was not the sort of man who would take what was not offered to him. He knew that plenty of girls – maybe even Beth – would lay down because she was a wife and it was expected of her but Daryl doubted very much that she would actually want to. And until he was certain that she wanted, he would not even think of asking her for it.

Richard clapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder as Daryl turned his head to look at Beth beside him. She was now holding a piece of bread, taking the smallest bites from it, and Daryl wondered how much her havoc her stomach was causing her today. He looked at her and knew that he would have to take the lead. Not that he knew anything about being a husband or having a wife but Beth was terrified and his own stomach could not handle knowing that she was probably terrified of thoughts of what he would do to her tonight. Or maybe even terrified of him. After all, he had been the one to force her into this union.

"Elizabeth?" He said in a voice too gruff and he cleared his throat.

Beth instantly turned her head to look at him. She did not say anything and he missed when she would look at him and smile. Had he truly ever found fault with her being inexplicably happy whenever she saw him? Something had happened for he was no longer "Sir" Daryl and she did not smile at him now. He just did now know what it was because that had happened before the man had been pinning her to the ground outside and the only solution Daryl could think of was killing that man on top of her and then forcing her to marry him.

"Would you like to get some air with me?" He asked, speaking the first thing that popped into his head.

Beth nodded slowly. "Air is very much needed," she agreed and his lips nearly twitched upwards in a smile at that.

He stood up and then held the back of her chair, pulling it back a bit as she also stood. No one paid attention to them as they stepped down from the dais. Daryl held his hand out and he found himself relieved when Beth did not pause or ignore it before placing her hand in his and he aided her in stepping down.

Daryl nearly let go of her hand, but for some reason, he found himself holding on. Her skin was soft – so much softer than his had ever been – and it was cool to the touch. He wondered if she was chilly or if her hands were always cold. These were things he supposed he would have to learn. He knew most men did not care to know their wives. For them, the only important thing to do with them was get them with an heir and then, they could be ignored. Men found themselves mistresses and other ways to amuse themselves and Daryl supposed that the wives did that, too.

But as he walked with Beth from the Great Hall and they walked down the steps into the bailey, he could not image doing anything like that. There was something about this girl that drew him in towards her. He had felt that for some time now. Each moment he felt with her somehow never felt as if it was a moment long enough.

Before whatever happened that had turned her from him, he wondered if she had felt the same thing in regards to time and spending it with him.

"Would you like to see my horse?" He asked her and again, he was simply saying the first words that came to his mind.

How did a man speak to his wife? He should have asked these questions to Richard that morn when they had both been getting ready for the ceremony. Instead, Richard had gone on and on about not being nervous – which, in turn, had actually made Daryl more nervous than he felt he would have been otherwise.

Beth did not answer but she nodded her head and still holding onto her hand, he led her towards the stables. He only let go of her hand once they came upon Fowler's stall and the black horse stamped his shoe down on the ground as if demanding Daryl to tell him where he had been all morning. Daryl smiled – his horse one of the few things in this world who could get an actual smile from him. He did not doubt that someday, Beth would be another.

"Here, you beast," Daryl grumbled and produced an apple from his shirt. Fowler reached his head out and took it without a moment's wait and as he crunched on it, Daryl smiled once more and rubbed the animal's snout. He looked to Beth, who stood beside him, watching. "He has been with me through much," he then told her but did not elaborate.

His wife did not need to know what battles he had fought in and how much blood he had spilled and how many men have seen the end of their lives at the end of his sword. He would never tell her those things.

"How did you choose him for your own?" She asked.

He was pleased that she was talking, but he did not show it on his face. "Richard gifted him to me when he made me Captain." He looked at the horse and then to Beth. "Would you like to come closer? It is important for a man's horse and a man's wife to be on friendly terms."

"Is it?" Beth questioned that, looking at him with a slight tilt of her head.

"I have no idea," Daryl admitted. "It seemed like a good thought to say."

And then something happened; something he had been waiting for. Beth laughed. And he nearly smiled from the sound of it. She took a step forward and he gently took hold of her hand, bringing it near Fowler's snout. The horse had finished with his apple and now sniffed Beth's hand, looking for another.

"Beware. He's a glutton," Daryl said and watched as Beth slowly extended her fingers and brought them down along Fowler's snout. The horse blinked at her, wondering who she was for Daryl had certainly never brought a woman around him before.

Daryl could not stop himself from staring at her. Her hair had been braided and swept up by Lady Lori that morning before the ceremony but a few strands were falling loose now. Her dress was her pretty dark green dress that he knew she wore to church on Sundays. He had been thinking of it for weeks now and he thought it now. His wife was beautiful.

And then he could not help but wonder what she thought when she looked at him. He was not a handsome man by any means. He was rough, riddled with wrinkles and scars. He felt sorry that she had to be saddled with a man such as him for the rest of her days.

"Would you like to take him for a ride?" He asked, hardly hearing his own voice pose the question to her.

Beth's eyes snapped to his, slightly wide. "I… I've never ridden before."

"I would not let you ride alone," he said to her. "Fowler will not hurt you. I won't let him."

Beth did not answer. She looked back and forth between man and horse as if a ball was bouncing back and forth between them. And then, her eyes rested on Daryl. He saw her visibly swallow and then, her head bobbed up and down ever so slightly.

"Yes, husband," she said in a hushed voice.

Daryl stilled at that. "If you truly do not want to ride him, I will not force you to, Elizabeth," he said, almost muttering the words, his stomach sinking at the idea that already, his wife was obedient and willing to follow any command he gave her – though he never wished to command her to do anything. Many other husbands would not feel the same but he wanted her to ride with him because it was what she wished to do. "We should return inside," he then said, rubbing Fowler's snout one more time before turning away, back towards the Keep, making sure he did not look to Beth again.

He began walking but within seconds, he knew that she was not beside him.

He turned and she still stood at Fowler's stall, looking at him.

"I would like to ride Fowler," she said in a voice that sounded stronger but he could still hear the slight trepidation trembling in the back of her throat.

Daryl looked at her for a moment, studying her face closely, seeing if she was simply wanting to because it was what he had wanted to do.

He wished he knew what the hell he was doing.

He went back to the stall and without saying anything, he led Fowler out, Beth quickly stepping back as she got her first good look at how big the horse was.

"Sometimes, it is easier riding without a saddle," he said as he gave Fowler a rub down his side as if to tell him that he needed to take it easy today; that he couldn't scare Beth. "I'm going to help you up," Daryl said, looking to Beth, and she was still looking up at Fowler as if she had never seen a beast more massive. And maybe she hadn't. She was a farmer's daughter and now spent her days in the keep, taking care of an infant. She did not spend her days around the horses. "You ready?" He asked.

Beth still didn't speak, her eyes were still wide, and she nodded her head rapidly.

Daryl went to her and after a moment of hesitating, his hands gripped around her waist. She gasped softly at the touch and not allowing himself to think of how small and fragile she felt, he easily lifted her up to Fowler's back. Beth scrambled for a moment before righting herself. She sat with both legs over one of Fowler's sides and Fowler, the good steed that he was, kept himself still. Daryl hoisted himself up next, swinging one leg over and sitting himself down behind Beth. She was as stiff as his hair in the winter when he came from the lake after bathing himself.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he told her in a quiet voice – a voice to keep both Beth and Fowler calm.

Beth turned her head and looked at him and he noticed that their faces were so close, his nose nearly touched hers. And Beth inhaled a soft, quick gasp as if she hadn't realized how close they were until this moment. And it had never happened to him before but he had heard about it happening to other men. Richard had spoken about it and at the time, Daryl had just let his brother talk because Daryl had had no idea what the hell he was talking about. But now… now, maybe he was starting to understand.

He would die before he let anything happen to her. Not because she was part of the keep and it was his job to protect all who lived within Richard's lands but because she was Beth.

She turned her head to look at Fowler's head and the way he flicked his ears. Daryl adjusted himself, feeling his body nearly mold against hers.

"It might be more comfortable if you put one leg on either side of him," Daryl suggested.

With a gasp, Beth spun her head around so she was looking at him once more. "That is not proper, Daryl," she said and she sounded so aghast at the situation, he nearly smiled.

"Alright," he said, adjusting himself once more, feeling the warmth from her body seeping into his. The slight breeze blew her loose strands of hair, tickling his skin and he could smell her scent of rose petals tickling his nose. She was reeking havoc on all of his senses and did she even have the slightest idea of it?

He had never shared a horse with a woman before and he wondered if it was like that for every other man who did.

Riding his horse certainly was not the first thought on his mind right now.

...

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 **No motorcycle but we have a horse :) Rating has officially changed to "M" for future chapters.**

 **Thank you very much for reading and please review!**

 **Also, please remember that although I do not update this story as often as my others, I have no plans to abandon it.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Finally felt inspiration for an update.**

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…

 **X.**

His arms were on either side of her as he controlled Fowler, taking him at a slow pace, which Elizabeth knew was for her benefit, and she sat there, unable to truly think of anything other than how warm her new husband was and how firm he felt. She was certain there were walls in their keep that weren't as strongly built as her new husband.

Husband. She wondered when she would get used to such a thing. She was married now to this man who sat behind her and who had his arms protectively holding onto her so that she did not fall straight from this horse's backside. She now had a husband and she was now a wife. She had always wanted to be a wife and a mother. Would she have children with Daryl? Now that they were married, it was their duty to have children. But was it something that Daryl wanted? There was so little she knew about the man behind her; the man she was now bound to for the rest of her life.

But she did not know how to get to know him. Even though she was his wife, it was still not her place to question him on things. A wife's duty was to be obedient and Daryl was such a quiet man. Elizabeth did not doubt that he wished to have a wife who was the same. Richard's words before the ceremony that morning still echoed in her mind. _He is not an easy man, but he is a good man_. However, other words also echoed in her mind; words that she could not easily forget. _You don't have to talk with her to have a marriage._

No, she could not speak to this man sitting behind her. What could she possibly say to him?

She was surprised when Daryl broke the silence between them.

"There is a spot I'd like to show you. It's just a bit further up ahead," he said.

She nodded and did not respond.

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you hurt?" He then asked and at first, she wasn't entirely certain to what he was referring to.

Did she hurt? Did her chest hurt from an ache she did not understand, still desiring this man that sat behind her, and even though she was now his, she did not pretend that he was hers in return? Because yes, that did hurt. It hurt more than anything she had experienced yet in her young life.

"I know riding for even a little distance when not used to it can hurt," Daryl then took the time to clarify what he meant with his question.

"I am well, husband," Elizabeth answered even though as the words fell past her lips, her bottom stung with soreness. She did not shift in an attempt at relieving the pain. She did not wish for him to know.

The spot Daryl took her to was in a small thicket of woods with a small creek flowing through the middle of it, twisting and winding, softly trickling over stones. There was no other sound besides that except for the gentle chirping of the birds in the trees. It was beautiful and peaceful and Elizabeth felt herself smiling faintly as she looked around the area.

Daryl stopped Fowler beside the creek and then slid from his back. He then turned and without a word, he extended his arms up towards Elizabeth. She leaned over and put her hands on his shoulders and his hands curved around her hips, gently pulling her down from the animal to her feet on the firm ground. He held her for a moment longer, knowing that she needed her legs to steady beneath her, and he was right.

Her hands remained on his shoulders and she dared herself to look up into his face. She had only been this close to him just a small amount of times, but she thought what she always thought when she looked into his face. Her husband was a handsome man. Perhaps others would not see it when they looked at him. They would look at his messy hair and his tanned, rough-skinned face and see the scars on his body and would think while he was formidable looking, he was not handsome. But Elizabeth would disagree with every one of them. Her husband _was_ handsome in his own way – and a way that she liked very much. Because even with everything he had gone through and had done in this life, there was a trace of innocence to him that Elizabeth could see; and she thought that perhaps she was the only one capable of seeing it.

"Alright?" Daryl asked her.

"Yes," Elizabeth remembered herself and removed her hands from his shoulders. "Thank you, husband." Her words were soft and her eyes were no longer on him. She took to looking around the small wood where he had brought her. "How did you know of this place?" She asked, unable to help herself. It, after all, was an innocent question.

She felt his eyes on her as she turned in a slow circle, looking up to the trees and the way the sunlight filtered itself through the lush leaves, but she did not look at him again.

"It is not the first time Richard has dragged me to a place I did not wish to go," Daryl said. "We came to see Laird Philip the year before last. I found it then."

"It's beautiful," Elizabeth said and finally, her eyes returned to him. As she had felt, she discovered that she had been right. His eyes were settled on her. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her. Surely, he had not wanted to marry her, but he was an honorable man and had wanted to save her from the grave situation she had been in.

She wondered what the other women of the Keep would do once they returned home. So many had shamelessly flirted with him. Would they continue even after all learned that he was now a married man? Elizabeth did not doubt it. Unless the man made it known that they could not sway him from his wife, men often returned female attention. And though through her watching, she saw that Daryl had always ignored them, would he continue to?

From the corner of her eye, she saw yellow, and she turned her head, smiling as she saw the wild daffodils growing among the tall grass at the bank of the creek. She went to them now and kneeling down, she began to gently pluck at the flowers, making herself a small bouquet. For her wedding day, she told herself.

"Do you use them for something?" A voice asked from behind her and she could not help but be startled even though she knew it was Daryl. She had not heard him approach her and had not expected him to be so close. "Sorry," he mumbled upon seeing her reaction and he took a step backwards. She wished to tell him that he did not have to do that, but the words were clumped in her throat, stubbornly staying put and not letting her speak them.

"No," she shook her head to his question. She looked back to the flowers and smiled. "They have always been one of my favorites. They have a poison in them that is fatal, but I still think they are so beautiful though."

Once she had collected enough for her liking, she stood up once more and closing her eyes, she lowered her nose to the petals, inhaling their pleasant, familiar scent.

"How do you know so much about flowers?" Daryl asked.

Elizabeth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Flowers have their own language and I have always felt that it is an important one to learn and know. Flowers give this world much more than people ever think."

"And what do daffodils mean in the flower language?"

Elizabeth paused for a moment and when she thought of the answer, she could not keep herself from smiling; almost letting out a laugh of irony. "New beginnings," she replied.

Daryl was quiet at that and did not speak further. Fowler had gone to the creek to help himself to a drink of water and Daryl turned away from Elizabeth, going to join his horse.

She watched as he crouched down and cupping his hands, he splashed some water onto his face as if he needed to cool himself down even though there was a somewhat brisk, gentle breeze blowing around them that afternoon.

He stayed there for a few minutes and Elizabeth did not speak. Instead, she held her flowers and smelled them once more before looking to see if there were other flowers that grew in this small thicket. When Daryl stood up again, she looked to him, but still did not speak. And for a moment, he looked at her and did not speak either.

"Richard and your father are both in agreement that they do not need proof of consummation," he said rather bluntly.

Elizabeth felt her eyes widen and her cheeks warm. She had been doing her best to not think of that since this morn and her talk with Lady Lori. It was her duty, she knew, but it was one that absolutely terrified her so she had done everything she could to keep it from her mind. If she thought of it, she would have been paralyzed with fear the entire day.

"Oh," Elizabeth said because she could not think of anything else to say.

"I am not going to force you into consummating," he then added.

"Oh," she said again, still at a lose for words.

Did he not wish to consummate their marriage because he did not wish to do so with _her_? They had to though. Otherwise, their marriage would not be a true marriage and could have the power to be null and void if Daryl wished it. And deep down, Elizabeth knew that she did not wish this marriage to end before it could even begin. She knew this man did not love her and did not seem to think highly of marriage and would probably entertain another woman who was not his wife – since he did not think there was anything wrong with that – but despite all of that, Elizabeth admitted that she honestly did not wish to be married to someone else. At least, she knew that Daryl would never beat her or force himself upon her and that was far more than most women got with their own husbands.

With Daryl, she did not know if she would be happy, but she knew that she would be safe.

Daryl was looking at her and she thought that he was going to say something else, but he remained silent, and she certainly did not know what to say. She couldn't possibly ask Daryl if they could consummate anyway. She did not doubt that he did not desire her and she was petrified at how much the act would hurt. But still, it was a duty that they had to see to now. As man and wife, it was expected of them. And they could not have children if they did not lay together. It was Elizabeth's duty to have children.

"We should get back," Daryl said after a few moments of silence passing between them.

Elizabeth said nothing; simply nodded.

"It is going to be dusk soon and I would not have you out here in the night," he further said.

He led Fowler away from the creek and brought the horse closer to Elizabeth. And then, as he had in the bailey, Daryl grasped Elizabeth's waist and easily lifted her onto the beast. She held the bouquet of daffodils close to her chest as Daryl mounted behind her and once again, she found herself in his arm's safety.

He led them from the trees with the same slow and steady pace that had brought them there and they walked along in silence. Elizabeth stared ahead, watching Fowler's ears flick and feeling Daryl's warm breath on the back of her head.

As the Keep rose from beyond the hill, Elizabeth swallowed and felt a heaviness in her stomach. She would much rather have stayed in that thicket with Daryl for a bit longer. She could not wait to leave this place and return home once more. Perhaps once back home, they could begin their marriage in a place they were both far more at ease being in. If Elizabeth was honest, she wished to just get their first time out of the way.

"Thank you for taking me there," Elizabeth heard herself say softly and she spoke so softly, she was not certain that Daryl heard her.

"You're welcome," but then he said in his gruff voice a moment later.

The rest of the ride was silent between them.

Once in the bailey, Daryl dismounted and then took Elizabeth and gently lifted her down as well. He barely held onto her this time though before he was moving away, leading Fowler back into the stable and Elizabeth stood there, hugging her daffodils, not sure what she should do. Should she wait for him or return inside without him at her side?

Around him, there were men: soldiers returning from training in the lists, on their way to the evening meal. Laird Richard's men passed her and politely inclined their heads in her direction and she gave them small smiles in return. She did not make eye contact with those men who were Laird Philip's. She saw Daryl step from the stable and after seeing that she was where he had left her, he headed in her direction, exchanging brief words with some of his men who passed him and spoke to him first. Elizabeth knew that her husband was rarely one to speak first – though he had done oftentimes with her today. She was curious as to why he did with her.

"I should bring these to my chamber," she told him, referring to the flowers.

"I will walk you," Daryl said with a single nod of his head.

Inside, the Great Hall was crowded and loud with everyone being served and diving into their food and Elizabeth nearly told Daryl that he could stay and eat with the other men, but before she could, she felt a light hand on the small of her back as Daryl steered her towards the stairs. She did not think of telling him to stay. Despite the words this man had said that had wounded her so deeply, she felt a warmth bloom across her entire body from where he was barely touching her.

Up the stairs, it was much quieter and his hand dropped from her back.

Elizabeth led the way to the small chamber where she and Judith were staying and she opened the door, seeing that it was empty. She needed to find Lady Lori and see where the baby was so she could resume her duties.

She gently laid the bouquet of daffodils onto the mantel of the fireplace and she saw that no one had lit it yet. She would have to go find one of the boys who worked in the keep to see if he would be able to light her a fire and then she would go to the kitchens for a cup of water to keep the flowers in. They would help in brightening the room.

She looked back to Daryl. He had taken one step into the room and then had stopped. He was staring at the bare room with a deep frown on his face; seeing that there was nothing but the cradle Judith was sleeping, the chest they had brought filled with things Judith would need for the journey and Elizabeth's meager amount of dresses and then the furs and pallet on the floor that Elizabeth was sleeping on during their stay and a single chair to sit on.

"Lady Andrea explained that this room was generally kept empty," Elizabeth said, explaining why it was so bare.

But Daryl did not stop frowning. Instead, he only seemed to be growing angrier. Elizabeth could not help but take a small step backwards as if he was about to lash out at her though there was no reason for him to be angry with her. If he noticed her backing away from him, he did not point it out.

"Have you been sleeping on the floor?" He asked and his voice was almost a growl.

"There was no extra bed for me…" Elizabeth answered, doing her best to keep her voice steady. His face now looked as it had when he had driven his sword through that man that had been on top of her, pinning her to the ground. He looked like the Devil himself. She took a step towards him before stopping herself. It was her duty now to calm him, she remembered. She had so many duties as a wife now. "It is alright, Daryl. Truly. The furs are soft and warm and the fire-"

But the words died on her tongue when Daryl let out some sort of growl and turned, storming from the chamber, leaving her alone in the growing darkness and coldness.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello muse. Pleasure to see you for this story again. Please remember that this is a VERY different time and it was a woman's place to be seen and not heard.**

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…

 **XI.**

He did not find Richard as soon as he would have liked, but rather, he came upon Lady Lori first – sitting in the solar off of the Hall with Lady Andrea, both sitting in chairs by the fire, indulging in cups of wine and talking about whatever it was that ladies of station talked of.

Lori seemed surprised when Daryl entered without even knocking and she began to rise, but something in his eyes made her stop. She had known the man for many years, and yet, she had never seen him as furious as he seemed at this very moment. It was almost frightening though she knew that he did not hold such fury towards her and she knew that she was not the one he would take it out on. For a fleeting moment, she wondered of Elizabeth's well-being before she scolded herself. Daryl would never hurt a woman – especially one who was his wife.

"Where is Richard?" The man asked, all but growling.

Lori could not help but frown a little as she looked to the man. Did he wish to annul the marriage already? Lori found that hard to believe. "He has taken an evening ride with Laird Phillip," Lori answered him. "Is something amiss?" She then questioned.

Daryl did not answer and instead, he turned and strode from the solar as quickly as he had rolled in like a storm cloud, but as he left, he heard Lady Andrea speak to Lady Lori.

"You should not let a man of his station address you like that," Lady Andrea said.

"He is as close to a brother as my husband has," was Lady Lori's reply.

Outside, Daryl's eyes scanned the inner bailey for signs that Richard and Phillip had returned from their ride. He was tempted to take Fowler out and look for them, but the search would more than likely be futile. No one could track like he could, and yet, he knew his mind was too clouded at the moment to be able to be used clearly at this moment.

He was furious and he tried to remember a time he was as angry as this. Perhaps when he saw that man on top of Beth. His world had turned to all red and black as he killed that man without hesitation. That had been an insult in the way Phillip had tried to place blame on Beth for the man's actions. As if it was her fault that she was beautiful and her appearance somehow drew men in acting like uncontrollable animals.

And now, he found himself furious again and once again, it was over Beth's treatment that she was receiving in this _Laird's_ Keep. And he wasn't much of a Laird at all. Daryl still did not understand why Richard was entertaining even the idea of a betrothal between his son and Phillip's daughter.

He now understood why Carl had come out to the stables that first night to complain to him about this whole arrangement. Not that Daryl had seen the girl, Penny, that much since their arrival, but the apple tended to not fall far from the tree, and if her father was like this, Penny's own behavior was more than likely a mirror of what she saw. Daryl had tried to put the boy at ease with what he thought the boy both needed and wanted to hear though why he had come to Daryl for advice or comfort, Daryl still did not know. Daryl knew he was not the best at either.

He had never intended to get himself married. Had never even considered it in all of his years. He was a soldier and soldiers tended to not have a long life on this earth. But now, he was married and the only thing he regretted was that Beth had all been but forced into marrying him when everyone knew someone as good and kind and beautiful as Beth deserved so much more in a husband than a soldier with no land or title to his name. And though technically, they were both on the same level, Beth could have married a farmer or a man who was learning a safer trade than how to plow his blade through a man.

Daryl had already decided that he would keep to himself how pleased he was with this match. Having never envisioned a wife for himself, he could now only envision Beth. She was what he truly wanted and desired and he hadn't even known it until their marriage. But he could not imagine her sharing the same thoughts and Daryl did not wish to draw more attention to how inadequate he was as a husband. She already knew that enough.

"Daryl."

He looked over his shoulder to see his aforementioned wife hurrying down the steps of the Keep to join him. She looked worried and he wondered what thoughts were in her mind. Was she worried for him or was she worried for what she thought he might do? Perhaps it was a combination of both and Daryl realized that he was a little pleased at just the mere _idea_ of his wife perhaps worrying for him.

"Daryl, please." She came to stand beside him, looking up at him, slightly out of breath from having chased after him. "Please, there is nothing wrong that you should have to speak with the Laird about."

Daryl could not help but frown with his disagreement. "You are sleeping on the floor," he then said in a low, steady voice, pointing the obvious out to her in hopes that perhaps she would see what an offense that was to her.

"I am not the only servant to sleep on the floor," she then took a turn to point out to him.

Daryl was not going to be swayed though. "You are my wife."

He said it in a firm tone that would let anyone hearing it know that there was no argument after that statement. She may have been a servant, but she was his wife and he did not have a wife who slept on the floor. It was fine for him or any man to sleep on the floor in the Great Hall or in the stables like he did on the occasional night, and while Beth may not have had a title to her name, she was a Lady all the same and Daryl would be damned if Beth received any more abuses while staying here.

At last, he saw a familiar brown horse and surely enough, Richard was astride with Phillip riding at his side. They entered the bailey and Richard caught sight of his Captain and friend and he slid from his horse to meet him, Daryl already walking his way. He was aware of Beth staying where she was though he did not tell her to do so. He did not mind if she heard him defending her. His wife seemed weary while around him – a change of tune from when they had been back home – and he wished to set right whatever wrong he had done.

"What is wrong?" Richard asked, sensing Daryl's mood immediately.

"I have just found out that they have Elizabeth sleeping on the floor," Daryl informed him.

"Yes," Richard said and then sighed as if he had been waiting for Daryl to come to him for this very reason. "Lori told me of it our first evening here. She was no more happy about it than you are right now."

"She may not be a Lady, but she is my wife and she is Nurse to _your_ daughter," Daryl reminded him, wondering why Richard had not already risen this matter to Phillip.

Richard looked at him for a moment and then looked to Phillip, who was discussing something with the stable boy who was taking their horses away. He was torn. Daryl was his closest friend. His brother. And he very much liked and respected Elizabeth and the tender care and love she showed for his daughter. But a marriage between Carl and Phillip's daughter, Penny, would bind their Keeps and people together and they would be nearly unstoppable when it came to men, lands and strength.

His eyes went back to Daryl and he took a moment to look the man over. He had known Daryl for many years – since they were boys and his father, the Laird before him, had brought young Daryl up to the Keep from the village to begin his training. Since that moment on, though Richard was being groomed to be the next Laird, he and Daryl became nearly inseparable. Daryl had an older brother, but he had long been gone from this world, and Richard had no brothers of his own so in one another, they found what they were missing and wishing to have.

They had been through much together and had seen things that they never discussed – either with one another or with others – but would forever share and keep them bonded.

And in all of their years at one another's sides, Richard had never seen Daryl look as he looked as he did now and despite the severity of the current conversation, Richard nearly felt like smiling. His friend seemed to be smitten with his new wife.

Richard honestly thought he would never live to see the day not only when Daryl got married, but actually seemed to like who he married.

"I do not know if anything can be done," Richard answered honestly. Daryl was his family and by extension, that made Elizabeth family now as well, but as Laird, sometimes things had to be done and decisions had to be made that trounced family.

"I am going to take her home then," Daryl said rather bluntly.

"This instant?" Richard could not help but be surprised.

"I will ride with her and I will take Hershel back as well. I will take one of the men with me only to have aid with protection if I need it," Daryl said and Richard could do nothing but blink at him for a passing moment. "I am not asking for permission, my Laird," Daryl then said in a low voice so no one but the two of them could hear.

" _You_ will return though," Richard said, struggling to get a Laird's firm grasp on the direction of the conversation once more. "After you take your bride and new father-in-law home, you will return here until myself and my family are ready to leave."

Daryl nodded his head once in agreement and said nothing further. With an incline of his head towards him, Daryl then dismissed himself, turning and walking back towards Elizabeth, who was standing at the bottom of the Keep's main entrance stairs.

Daryl came to stop in front of her. "I need you to gather your things and your father. I am going to take you away from here tonight."

And when he said those words, it looked as if she was to smile, but she seemed to catch herself in time before she could.

"What of Judith?" She asked, looking up at him with those impossibly big eyes of hers.

He suspected she wanted children. All women seemed to want children and it was expected of them to have a brood of their own now that they were married. He wondered if when they did have children – when they finally found the courage to consummate their marriage – would their children have eyes as big as their mother's? He was almost startled at how easy it was for him to imagine such a thing.

Just as he had never imagined a wife for himself, children of his own had never even crossed his mind. Plenty of soldiers in the Garrison had wives and families of their own, but Daryl had not understood how they had either and he still did not understand. The life of a soldier was both dangerous and short and how could they leave behind widows and children without a father, knowing the odds of them coming home being as slim as they were? Would Beth be made a widow soon? Would they even be married for a year? He supposed one good thing could come of his death. If he left Beth a widow while she was still as young and pretty as she was, she would have no problem with finding another husband.

"There are other maids who can care for her until she comes home as well," Daryl said. He looked at her for a moment. "I will not have you spend another night on the floor. The floor is no place for you."

Beth looked up at him and didn't say anything and for a moment, it was as how she looked at him just a few days before; before something had happened to cause her to grow cold towards him and to stop calling him "Sir" before his name. He wished to ask her what had happened, but he thought, even as her husband now, he did not have a place to ask her. If she wished to make it his business, she would.

And as she looked up at him in the same way she used to, Daryl felt a warmth in his chest.

"Thank you, Daryl," she then said in a voice that sounded almost breathless and Daryl felt his entire body freeze because Beth then chose to stand on her toes then and kiss his cheek.

…

He knew that if they left that evening, they would be traveling over night, but Daryl would rather get Beth away from Phillip's keep sooner rather than later. But Beth seemed eager to leave and Hershel, who had just arrived for the marriage ceremony that morning, seemed ready to leave as well. Richard had another man from the Garrison, Aiden, accompany them home before Daryl and Aiden would return back to Phillip's keep.

He did not wish to stop though and make camp somewhere. They would ride through the night and return home just at dawn. Beth sat in front of him on Fowler just as she had when he took her for a ride earlier that day, Hershel rode his horse beside him and Aiden followed behind, protecting the rear. Beth had done her best to stay awake, but eventually, the events of the long day caught up to her and Daryl felt her head against his chest as she fell fast asleep, the rocking of Fowler's steps lulling her to slumber.

Daryl did not mind in the least.

"What will your living arrangements be once you both return home?" Hershel broke the silence between them by asking, looking over to Daryl.

Daryl did not answer immediately because he did not have an answer. He had thought of what they could possibly do, but thinking about it had not led him to a conclusion.

"I do not know," Daryl then admitted to the man who was now his father-in-law. "As long as Judith is in need of a nurse, Beth will have to stay in the Keep and as Captain, I am expected to be there as well."

From the corner of his eye, Daryl could see Hershel begin to smile.

"Beth?" The man then asked with piqued interest.

Daryl nearly swore. He did not care that this man was Beth's father. No one – not even Beth – knew that that was his nickname for her. He was usually always so careful to address her as Elizabeth when he spoke with her or others about her.

But Hershel knew now and even without looking at him, Daryl could see that the man was smiling at him as if he was a cat who had just gotten an extra dish of cream.

"Elizabeth," Daryl corrected though it was far too late for that and he cleared his throat, feeling the back of his neck flush. It was made worse when Beth shifted in her sleep, murmuring something and snuggled closer into his chest.

He doubted she knew what she was doing as she slept. If she was awake, she would never do this. Especially not with others around. And even if others weren't around. His cheek was still tickling for the kiss she had bestowed on his cheek earlier and he did not quite understand what had made her do that.

Hershel chuckled then as if this whole thing was quite amusing to him. Daryl's fingers tightened around Fowler's reins as his face became warmer. Thankfully, it was too dark for anyone to see. In Daryl's opinion, they couldn't reach home soon enough.

…

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 **Next chapter will have a bit of a jump in time. Thank you for reading and please take a moment to review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you for being patient between updates. As you know, my muse does not visit as often as we would all like for this story. As always, please remember that these are very different times for men and women.**

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…

 **XII.**

In the days since she had been home, her arms empty of Judith, Elizabeth had taken to helping Carol with kitchen duties: kneading the dough to bake bread, stirring the pots of stew that simmered above the fires in the hearths and pretending that she did not notice how the other kitchen and serving women seemed to be completely pretending as if she did not exist at all.

Elizabeth was far from being stupid and she knew why she was receiving such treatment. Word of her marriage to Daryl was no secret and she knew that these women had all enjoyed the flirtations they threw at the man who was now her husband.

"They are jealous," Carol had said with a small smile as if the whole thing amused her.

Elizabeth shook her head, her fingers curling into fists as she worked the floured dough on the tabletop. "There is no cause for jealousy," she stated.

"No?" Carol asked and Elizabeth lifted her eyes to look at the woman standing opposite her.

"No," Elizabeth said, her voice more forceful than she intended for it to be. One could possibly interpret her tone as one of anger. But why would she be angry? She knew these women gave her husband smiles and tried to show their chests off to him. And she knew that Daryl had never seemed to notice. And even if he did, why did it matter?

Carol let out a light laugh and Elizabeth's brow furrowed.

"What is it?" She asked.

Carol shook her head, but continued wearing a smile of amusement. "They are jealous of you and you are jealous that perhaps your husband might return their attentions."

Elizabeth parted her lips to speak and say something, but there were no words for her to say. None came to her mind. There was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous. If Daryl wished to show attention to one of the other women through the Keep, Elizabeth was just his wife. She had no say in what he did or did not do.

Carol remained smiling. "You have married a good man."

That gave Elizabeth pause, her hands stilling in the dough. "You know him well?"

"He has been very kind to Sophia and I after my husband's death. Most see me as nothing more than a meek little mouse in the kitchen. Daryl has taken the time to talk with me and get to know me."

Elizabeth thought that through for a moment.

"Of course, it is never a bad thing to befriend those who work in the kitchen," Carol said with a gleam in her eyes. "Lest you anger us and we piss in your stew."

"Carol!" Elizabeth exclaimed at her vulgarity, but felt laughter bubbling in her throat. She was quiet again, her hands slowly beginning to work the dough though it no longer needed it. "Lady Lori has told me the same thing. About Daryl. She told me that he is gruff but kind."

Carol looked at her closely, studying her. "Yet, you do not believe that."

Elizabeth swallowed a dryness that had lodged in the center of her throat. "I want to. More than anything," she confessed in a quiet tone.

"What is keeping you from believing it then?" Carol asked.

Elizabeth let out a small sigh. "I heard him and Carl speaking… Daryl said some things and I have not been able to forget them," she confessed. "They hurt me."

"And have you discussed it with him?"

"It is not a wife's place," Elizabeth immediately reminded her.

"But your feelings are hurt and Daryl is a man who will want to know about it. Otherwise, how will he know?" Carol told her, stopping in her own work as she concentrated on Elizabeth. "Did he not save you from a man who was trying to harm you?"

Beth did not answer, but she did nod her head for it was the truth. She did her best to not think what would have happened with that man if Daryl had not come upon them when he had. She could, some nights, still feel the warmth of that man's blood as it poured onto her as Daryl stabbed him. Daryl had saved her then and had continued with saving her reputation by marrying her. Neither were things that he had to do, but he had without thinking about either action twice.

He _was_ a good man. She could not imagine Daryl ever raising a hand to her in anger and he had held off on bedding her, knowing that she was not ready, while it a husband's right to take his wife whenever he pleased whether she wanted it or not. But now Daryl. Daryl had not taken her because he owned her now. He hadn't taken her because he knew she was afraid and deep down, she knew that he did not wish for her to be afraid of him.

Her husband _was_ a good man.

Elizabeth said nothing as she finished molding the loaf of bread and then stepped back, wiping her hands on the apron she wore around her waist. "I am going to return to my chamber for the time being unless you need more from me." She paused. "I would like to ready my room for when the traveling party returns from Laird Phillip's holdings."

Carol smiled at her. "Go on then. I will be glad when Judith returns. I see now why you are a nursemaid and not a kitchen maid." She laughed then as Elizabeth dropped her mouth open in indignation, before she untied her apron and hurried from the kitchen with a laugh.

Elizabeth's chamber was small – but not as small as the one she had been staying in while staying at Laird Phillip and Lady Andrea's Keep. It was connected to Judith's chamber so she could reach the babe whenever she was needed and she had always been grateful that she had a room and fireplace and bed of her own while many other servants in the Keep did not share the same luxuries as her.

And though there had been no discussion of it, Elizabeth was acting under the assumption that once her husband arrived home, he would be sharing the chamber with her. She knew now, he either slept in the stables or in one of the battlements. She was certain he had a room of his own. Laird Richard would not let his Head of Garrison sleep on the floor, but Elizabeth realized that she had no idea where it was and why Daryl never seemed to use it.

Taking the back staircase, when she reached her room, however, Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. The door was open and she recognized Ty, the carpenter in town that the Laird usually commissioned when he needed something built, and he had several man with him.

"What is happening?" Elizabeth asked, stopping just inside the door frame.

Ty turned and flashed her warm smile. "On orders of the Laird and Lady, a wedding present for you and your husband."

Elizabeth flushed when she saw what Ty and the other men were moving into her chamber.

Ty had fashioned a bed – big enough for two.

"Oh, it is…" she struggled to think of something to say, but all she could do was stare at it.

It was simple and lovely and Elizabeth could not help but imagine both she and Daryl lying on the soft straw beneath the blankets, side by side. She had been gifted a pillow filled with feathers from Lady Lori when she had first become nursemaid to Judith and Elizabeth now saw that another, for Daryl, had been added to the bed.

"This is too much," Elizabeth said with a shake of her head.

Far too much. She and Daryl had no titles and were not of noble birth. Such blatant favoritism by the Laird and Lady would only lead to jealousy from the others.

"You do not like it?" Ty began to frown.

Elizabeth rushed forward. "Oh, no! I do!" She was quick to assure him. "It's lovely, Ty. Truly," she smiled at him. "It is just too much for Daryl and myself."

Ty's smile returned. "You can take that up with the Laird. These were his orders."

Elizabeth was not sure what to say to that. Surely, when Daryl returned and he saw the bed with the feather-filled pillows, he would share her feelings on this matter and take it up with Laird Richard himself.

Ty and the other men left shortly after and Elizabeth was left by herself in her chamber. She went to the door to close it behind them and she then turned, looking over the small, quiet room. The bed certainly made the space a bit smaller, but she did not need much room. She hardly spent time in here anyway, her time always with Judith, and she knew Daryl certainly would not care about the space. She knew that a man who slept in the stables when he did not have to was not a man who generally cared for more homely comforts.

The fire had died down and Elizabeth took a moment to build it up again and soon, the room was filling with heat. She gave herself a faint smile as she then turned and looked at the bed. She approached it slowly – as if perhaps it would reach out and bite her – and she ran her hand over one of the wooden posts in the four corners. It truly was a beautiful bed.

She turned and sat herself down gingerly on the edge of the bed and then, after moment, she could not help but lay down, her head finding the soft pillow. She released a contented sigh. Rolling onto her back, she giggled lightly as she playfully spread her arms and legs out.

She then thought of Daryl. Her husband.

She admitted that she missed him. She missed seeing him every day. He had ridden her and her father back to their home before returning to Laird Phillip's and that had been four days ago. She missed knowing that no matter where she was, he was not too far behind. He was as a shadow and she admitted that she felt safe when he was near.

She wondered if he had missed her in these days apart or if he had thought of her at all.

Elizabeth knew that Carol was right. She must speak with him. She had loved him before she had even exchanged more than a handful of words with him and now that they were bound together in holy matrimony, she still was in love with the man. She must speak with him and share her hurt feelings over what she heard him say to Carl. If she did not, this between them would simply be nothing more than two strangers sharing a bed each night.

That was not what she envisioned for herself when she got married. She did want love in her marriage and she wished her husband to love her as well. Daryl was a good man and she did not expect him to ever love her, but she could hope that he would care deeply for her. He had already showed her that he did care for her when he dispatched her attacker and she knew that she had been distant from him since she eavesdropped. She could not hope for his care for her to deepen when she acted so cold towards him.

She would speak with him once he returned home.

Elizabeth could only hope that he would return home soon.

…

Home. Thank God.

Daryl nearly sighed with relief once they came over the hill and he saw their Keep, bathing in the sun's generous rays and looked far more welcoming than any sight in this world. He wondered if Elizabeth would be welcoming; if she would be happy to have him returned. He could not deny to himself that he was excited to see her.

He led the procession towards the Keep, over the bridge and the moat and into the Bailey, a flutter of activity as it always was, many coming to aid the Laird and Lady and their returning party with dismounting and seeing to the horses and trunks.

Daryl's eyes scanned all those around him as he slid down from Fowler, but he saw no hair as blonde as his wife's. Surely, she would have heard of their arrival and would have come to greet them. He rubbed a hand on Fowler's neck and watched the main doors of the Keep, but still, his wife was not one of those who poured out.

He stopped one of the boys walking past with a gentle hand on his shoulder. The boy seemed startled and Daryl knew that both man and horse were giants in his eyes.

"Where is Elizabeth?" He asked the boy.

"I do not know, Sir," the boy shook his head.

Daryl frowned to himself. She better not have gone out to the fields to pick her flowers without taking something with her. He must speak with her about going out unaccompanied. They may have still been their lands, but any person could sneak onto their lands and cause harm – especially to a pretty girl all alone, as Elizabeth already knew.

He would go and find her. He handed the reigns of Fowler to another man, promising the horse that he would see to him in a little bit and that someone else would get him water and oats and the horse seemed to accept that for he followed the man without protest.

He climbed the steps of the Keep two at a time and stepped inside, nearly taking a deep breath of the air. Finally. Home.

But still, no Elizabeth.

He frowned to himself. Even if she had not come outside to greet him, he knew that she would have rushed out to see Judith.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor and went towards her chamber. The door was closed and he hesitated before knocking. Perhaps she was changing. He would not wish to walk on her if she was not dressed. And just the thought of Elizabeth perhaps not wearing clothes on the other side of the door made his neck flush and his chest tighten as well as another part of him tightening.

Daryl lifted his fist and knocked lightly. "Elizabeth?" He said her name quietly, still gruffly. He knew he would have to work on softening his tone when speaking with his wife.

He pushed the door open slowly, giving her time to shriek at him that she was naked. But there was no sound and Daryl peered into the chamber. He saw her, on the bed – a bed that almost seemed too large for the room and yet, it somehow seemed to fit in a way – and she seemed fast asleep. He stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving her as he slowly approached, looking upon her as she slept.

He had not seen her in four days and he had missed her. He found himself often looking for her from the corner of his eye before he reminded himself that he was the one who had taken her home. He wondered if she had missed him during their separation or if she had even thought of him while she was here and he was there.

Daryl turned to leave, letting her nap a bit longer, but then Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open a moment later and he found himself frozen to the spot in which he stood. Elizabeth's eyes opened fully and then took another moment to focus clearly on him. She looked at him, perhaps deciding whether or not he was just part of a fading dream she had been having.

But then, she smiled a smile that punched him in the gut and one he had missed seeing. It felt as if an entire lifetime had passed without her giving him that smile. That smile made the sun envious.

"You've returned!" She exclaimed and then, still unable to move, Daryl watched as she hurried from the bed and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He felt too stunned to move as his little wife hugged him tightly and Elizabeth took his stillness for perhaps un-wanting of the affection. She began to loosen her arms and take a step back and that seemed to snap him out of it for Daryl finally reacted. He wrapped one arm strongly around her waist, keeping her to his chest, and his lips twitched a bit as he heard Elizabeth laugh softly and her arms returned around his neck, continuing the hug.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**For some reason, when my dogs wake me up in the middle of the night to be let out and I'm trying to fall back asleep, inspiration strikes me for this story.**

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…

 **XIII.**

His wife's body was small and soft and he wished for his arms to never remove themselves from around her. Elizabeth's arms were around his neck and Daryl's own arms had slowly wound themselves around her waist and now that they were there, he did not want this hug to end. Her hugging him at all in the first place had certainly been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. He wanted to ask her why she hugged him, but he honestly did not want to know. Ever since their marriage, she had been distant from how she used to be and he had no idea as to why – he figured it was killing a man on top of her, right in front of her eyes – but now, she was hugging him and Daryl did not want to question it.

Perhaps, his wife had missed him as he had missed her.

Being this close to her, having her this close and feeling her in his arms, Daryl was reminded of how fragile his wife was. She was a little thing and where he was all sharp angles and hard planes, Elizabeth was a wisp of a thing and he felt the need to hold onto her tighter in case some strong wind came and blew her away from him.

Another long minute passed and then, Elizabeth began to slowly pull herself back from him.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, as if now shy, and Daryl noticed that her cheeks were a noticeable shade of pink.

"I am so glad you have returned home safe, husband," Elizabeth said.

As he looked down at her, Daryl felt as if he had not had a drink of water in a fortnight. He physically tried to swallow down the parch in his throat. "It is good to be home," he agreed with her, his eyes never leaving hers even as she turned slightly away from her.

"The Laird has presented us with a marriage gift," Elizabeth told him and Daryl, almost reluctantly, moved his eyes away from her so he could once again look at the bed. "I think it was thought that we would share my chamber since I must be close to Judith," she said.

Daryl kept staring at the bed. Typical Richard. It was no secret to Daryl that Richard was pleased – quite so – that Daryl was now married – and married to Elizabeth who both Richard and Lady Lori thought was wonderful, which Daryl did not disagree with – and Richard had teased him several times during their time away from home that Richard was looking forward to being made an uncle.

Bedding his wife had been on his mind. He had never truly cared for it before. He had never found comfort with being so close to another person, but with Elizabeth, he found himself imagining what it would be like, feeling her skin against his; her fingers through his hair; how she would smell as he pressed his face into her throat.

They were no where near that place of sharing such intimacy with one another and damn Richard for refusing to let that through his thick head. And for reminding Daryl of that while he tried to ignore the fact that he wanted his wife. Her hug certainly hadn't helped.

"I will move my things into here," Daryl agreed and for some reason, his answer made a small smile bloom across Elizabeth's face.

"I will make room," she said. A moment passed. "Daryl," she then said his name as if he was getting prepared to leave though he had taken no actions to.

Daryl looked to her and waited to see what she wished to say and he noticed that she was fidgeting with her fingers in front of him as if she was nervous. He could not help but frown at that. Why would she be nervous around him? Had he given her cause to be nervous around him? Ever since marriage to him was forced upon her, he thought he had done what he could to see to her comfort while around him. He did not wish for a wife afraid of him. He had seen too many maids who trembled at the sights of their husbands; too many women who sported proof of their husband's treatment of them.

She was now the one to visibly swallow and she lifted her eyes to his. "After the evening meal, I would like the chance to speak with you."

His brow furrowed even as he nodded, having no idea what the conversation could be about. There almost seemed to be too many possibilities. "We may speak now, if you wish. I have to brush down Fowler…" he trailed off as she shook her head.

"I must go see Lady Lori and resume my duties with Judith," Elizabeth answered.

"Then after the evening meal," he agreed and she visibly looked relieved as if she had been preparing herself for him to give her an entirely different response.

"Thank you, husband," Elizabeth said in a quiet voice, looking shy once more.

Daryl looked down at her and wondered what her reaction would be if he was to lean down and kiss her just then. Not a brushing of lips as had been the kiss after their marriage ceremony, but a true kiss. Daryl could not remember the last time he had kissed a woman and he knew, without the need of her having to tell him, that Elizabeth had never been kissed by neither a man or a boy.

He would be her first honest kiss and that made him more nervous than he understood.

A knock on the open chamber door had both of their heads turning to see that it was Amy.

"Elizabeth, Lady Lori is requesting you in her solar," the lady-in-waiting informed her.

Elizabeth quickly took a step back as if somehow, standing so close to her husband in their chamber was a sin of some sort. "Of course," she said to Amy and the other turned and left without waiting for her.

Elizabeth had a small piece of mirror that she quickly took from the fireplace mantel and did her best to straighten her hair from her unforeseen nap that afternoon. She then put the mirror down and smoothed her hands down her dress. She felt nervous for some reason, but she could not begin to explain why. She adored Lady Lori as if the woman was her own mother and it was no secret that the feeling was mutual. And she would get to see Judith as well, a return to caring for her, and Elizabeth had felt so lost without having the babe around to fill her days with work.

Still, though, her stomach flapped as if home to countless butterflies and when she lifted her eyes and saw that Daryl stood there, looking at her, she found the cause of her nerves. He was looking at her, _truly_ looking at her, and she admitted that she did not know what to do with that. He looked at her as if, perhaps, he was hungry, but she admitted that she didn't understand the look. No man had ever truly looked at her before like that; so raw.

She wondered how she looked at him.

Her waist was still seared with the heat radiating forth from his body as he hugged her.

She could only imagine how warm she would be that night as he slept beside her in bed.

And just as she had on the steps of Laird Phillip's keep when he had been furious over her received treatment from having to sleep on the floor, Elizabeth did not think of it this time. She stood on her toes and brushed her lips across his cheek.

"I am very glad you have returned," she whispered to him.

Daryl turned his head so he could look into her eyes and their faces were so close together, their noses nearly brushed together and she could feel the warm exhale of breath across her lips. She felt her eyes begin to flutter close and again, his arms were finding a home around her waist; as if he knew that she needed him to hold her in that moment but for what reason, Elizabeth didn't know nor did she understand.

"I thought you did not like me," Daryl confessed and her eyes snapped open wide at that.

He was staring at her, looking at her in that close way that he did, and Elizabeth admitted that she was not too sure what to say to his words. Not like him? She was hurt, yes, but she was taking Carol's advice and she was going to speak with him this evening about what she had overheard being said between him and Carl.

But not like him? She was mad for him. She had known that as fact for quite some time that she had fallen in love with this man and now having him as her husband, she knew she was truly blessed for her father had been off, trying to make a match with another man while in her heart, this had been the only man she truly wanted.

She wished to tell him all of this, but she did not know how to. She had never had such feelings for a man before that would teach her how to confess them.

She spoke the only thing she could seem to manage in that moment.

"I like you very much, husband," she said in a soft breath, just near above a whisper, feeling brave and scared and nervous all at the same time.

Daryl closed the breath of space that was still between their lips then and she had never been kissed, but she was no fool to not know what he was about to do. In the back of her throat, the words rose to tell him that their chamber door was open and anyone could see them do this, but then, the words died altogether the first moment his lips touched hers.

It was a light kiss – faint and gentle and it felt like a cool spring breeze tickling her skin. She liked it. Immensely. It was how she always envisioned her first kiss to be; from her husband who was taking great care with her and understanding that she did not know what to do. Daryl did not move quickly; as if he was fearful that he would scare her. Elizabeth wished that she could never feel scared when around him, but to say that, she would have to pull her lips from his and she did not wish for this kiss to end. His lips slowly caressed hers and Elizabeth felt a need in the pit of her stomach she did not understand.

It was almost as if she wanted his lips to be harder against hers, but she did understand the need or where it had come from.

Someone clearing their throat in the doorway broke their lips apart and both turned their heads to see that it was the Laird, standing in the doorway with a wide smile on his face. Elizabeth instantly felt ashamed – though why, she did not know – and she was quick to push herself away from Daryl. She smoothed her hands down her dress once more only to realize that they were trembling; same as her lips.

She gave a quick curtsy to the Laird and did not look at Daryl. "I must see to Lady Lori."

And with that, she hurried from the chamber as if she was going to be reprimanded.

Daryl watched after his wife and then looked to Richard, the man still smiling, now grinning, and Daryl only frowned.

"What?" Daryl all but growled at the man.

Richard just laughed.

…

Daryl hoped he did not have to leave home again for a long time and if Richard asked him to, he would – as politely as possible – tell the man to go to Hell and take someone else.

He wished he could sit beside his wife, but he sat next to Carl as he always did and Elizabeth sat on the other side of Lady Lori, but between the noise of the other men in the Hall, enjoying their evening meal, Daryl could still hear her; laughing at stories that Lady Lori was telling her of things she had missed from Judith in the days she was back here and Judith had remained at Laird Phillip's keep.

Daryl ate the venison stew and fresh bread put in front of him from one of the serving girls and drank his cup of ale and he thought of what Elizabeth wanted to speak with him about. He knew it could be about anything so trying to guess exactly what it was would be a waste of time. But still, it was truly the only thing on his mind and listened to Carl only with half of one ear as he was distracted with possibilities of what conversation was to come later.

Perhaps, having experienced their first kiss, she was ready for more. Did she wish to speak to him about consummating their marriage? And if she was, Daryl wondered if he was actually ready for that himself.

He wanted to kiss her again. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted that and no matter what she wished to discuss with him after this meal, he would get the opportunity to do so with her again. His wife tasted sweet – just like he knew that she would.

"Here, here!" Richard hit his mug onto the table as he rose to his feet and within seconds, he had the Hall silent and with all eyes on him. "I wish to inform you all, though I am sure you already know, that while we were away, two of our own were married."

Daryl could not help but frown. Was an announcement to everyone a necessity?

"A marriage between Daryl, the Head of my Garrison and my brother, and the lovely Elizabeth, the best nurse my daughter may have ever asked for."

The men let out cheers and banged their mugs onto the table.

Richard smiled and gestured for Daryl to stand up – which he did. Reluctantly. He then gestured for Elizabeth to stand up and she did with a shy smile. Daryl turned his head to look towards her, but could not her through Richard standing between them.

"Let us all congratulate them," Richard said and within a second, the Hall exploded with thunderous cheers.

Richard took a step back and reached out, slapping a hand on Daryl's back, and then he gestured for Elizabeth to step towards him. Daryl looked at her and she gave him a shy smile as she came to stand on the other side of Richard and the Laird put a friendly hand on her back. Elizabeth's cheeks were pink from the attention, but she seemed flattered that the cheers for them were still continuing. And seeing that she did not mind, Daryl forced himself to not mind either. If Elizabeth liked it, he could like it, too.

"May their marriage be a happy one and may they be blessed with many, _many_ , children!" Richard boomed and the Hall cheered and laughed louder.

Daryl frowned at him, but Richard just grinned. It would be a crime to punch the man in the face, but the next time Daryl got Richard into the lists for training, Daryl already vowed to himself that he would not go easy on him.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review! There has finally been progress between these two!**


	14. Chapter 14

**As always, thank you for your never ending patience between updates for this story.**

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…

 **XIV.**

For as much as Daryl often grumbled about it beneath his breath, Richard was not a stupid man, by any means, and after the evening meal and Elizabeth had gone upstairs to return to Judith, the last thing Daryl wished to do was sit with Richard by the fire for their nightly ritual of discussing that day's events and the man had been able to guess that for himself.

As the maids cleared the tables and everyone left the Hall to go about their own business before laying their heads down for a night's sleep, both Richard and Daryl stood as well and Richard leaned over to clap a hand on his shoulder.

"Sleep well, brother," Richard gave him a grin that let Daryl know that he was not necessarily speaking of sleep at all. Daryl frowned, but made no comment of his own in return to his.

Daryl left the hall and headed towards the stairs that his wife had ascended just a short time before. There was a maid on her way down, fresh linens folded in her arms, and Daryl turned, pressing himself close to the wall so she would have room to pass by. She threw a smile at him, but Daryl hardly noticed for as soon as she passed, he turned and resumed climbing, each step taking him closer to Elizabeth, and his heart pounded in the base of his throat in anticipation and a little bit of hesitation, as well.

She had said that she wished to speak with him that evening before they retired to bed and though he had done his best to think of the topic his wife wished to discuss with him all through the meal, Daryl admitted that he was at a loss. The female's mind was a complete mystery to him – one he had never wished to figure out for himself before.

But then he married Elizabeth and quite suddenly, he found himself wishing to crawl into her mind and discover and acquaint himself with every nook and cranny she had in there.

Stepping into her chamber that was now his as well, he saw that it was empty of her, but there was another door that led into Judith's nursery and that door was open. Daryl closed the main door that looked into their chamber and then crossed the room so he could look into the nursery. He watched as Elizabeth walked a slow circle around the room, the babe cradled in her arms and Elizabeth's hand gently patting her rump as she sang to her a song so soft, Daryl could only hear the gentle rise and fall of the cadence instead of the words.

He stood in the doorway between the two rooms and found himself unable to look away. Hell could burst open at his feet right this moment, but he still wouldn't stop watching the woman tend to the babe in her arms. His wife. He was married to this woman before him and her words from earlier echoed in his ears.

 _I like you very much, husband._

There was little more in this world that he could ask for than that. He wished for her to care for him; to not be frightened of him. And not only was she not frightened him and she _did_ care for him, she had also accepted his kiss and from the way her soft lips had pressed to his, it would seem that perhaps she wanted another one from him.

Daryl would be more than pleased to kiss her again – if that was what she truly wanted. But first, he wished for her to speak to him with whatever was on her mind.

He knew it was not the way things were generally done between men and their wives. Most men could not have cared less what their wives thought or how they felt. Most men had gotten their wives in exchange for money or land or simply because there was an agreement between the man and the woman's father. The man simply wished for the woman to give him children – preferably sons – and as long as they were healthy enough to do that, the man did not spare much time thinking of his wife.

Daryl knew that was the way of things. He knew Richard loved the Lady Lori very much, but even the man had his own secrets; secrets that he confessed to Daryl rather than to his wife for in Richard's opinion, it was not his wife's place to know everything. But the way Daryl saw things, if Elizabeth had the courage to tell him something that was on her mind, there was no reason that Daryl did not wish to hear it and perhaps tell her something in return that was on his.

Elizabeth felt his eyes watching her for she lifted her eyes and fell them onto him instantly. She gave him a soft smile and Daryl felt himself smiling at her in return. Elizabeth then looked back down to Judith and kissed the babe on the head, bending over and laying her down as gently as she could into the cradle.

"Sleep well, little one," Elizabeth whispered to the babe and then with one soft rock of the cradle, Elizabeth crossed the room and Daryl stepped back into their chamber so she could enter as well. She closed the door a bit – not completely – and then she looked up to Daryl with the same soft smile that she had just given him a moment earlier.

Suddenly, Daryl felt that perhaps he was standing too close to her and he went to go bring the fire in their hearth back to life so it could give them some warmth in their small space. When he turned again, Elizabeth was sitting on the edge of the – _their_ – bed, taking the braids from her hair and combing her fingers through the long blonde strands.

Not too sure what to do with himself now, Daryl came and hesitantly sat him down beside her, but made sure that he was not too close to her. Now, up in this chamber with her with no one else was around, he found himself to be nervous at the idea of Elizabeth telling him that she was ready for them to consummate their marriage. He did not know if _he_ was ready to do the consummation; at least with not a bit fair of warning ahead of time.

"You must tell me if I am stepping too far from my place," she began quietly without needing him to prompt her to do so.

Daryl said nothing to that for he could not imagine her saying anything that would not be her place to do so. He simply looked at her and waited for her to continue and her fingers dropped from her hair, falling into her lap, and almost hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to look at him. She was nervous. That much was obvious to him. Without much thought behind the action, Daryl reached his hand out and covered both of hers in her lap with his. Her skin was soft and cool to touch and Daryl wondered if he needed to add more wood to the fire to help her warm up quicker.

She exhaled a breath as if that was what she needed from him.

"At Laird Phillip's, I overheard you and Carl speaking by the stables. It was not my intent to eavesdrop," she then quickly added as if perhaps he thought she was a spy. "I was out with Judith for a bit of air after eating and you were speaking with the boy as you brushed Fowler. I was in the shadows near the Keep and neither of you knew I was there."

Daryl's mind began to race the instant she said that she had heard him and Carl. What was it that had been said? It had been many days before and there had been many conversations he had been a part of since. But this conversation with Carl had obviously been one to stay on her mind and after another moment, he remembered what had been said and he looked to her, already knowing what she was going to say next to him.

"If you wish to have a mistress even though you are now married to me, I know it is not my place to comment on it," she said and her eyes had fallen from his to look down to his hand still resting over hers.

"I have no desire for any other woman besides you," Daryl heard himself speak in response before he could even fully process the words in his own mind. "When I said those things to Carl, it was to put him more at ease because he is going to be marrying a girl he has no feelings for."

Elizabeth lifted her eyes once again to look at him and Daryl knew that she understood what he meant and his unspoken words hung in the air heavily between them.

 _Not like me_.

For an extended moment, she stared at him and nothing else and Daryl sat still, letting her get her fill of him though he felt like squirming from feeling uncomfortable. A person had never stared at him like this unless they were doing their best to intimidate him and Daryl usually responded with either his sword or a fist to the person's jaw. But Elizabeth was staring at him right now, studying him to learn that he spoke the truth. She would learn over time that he always spoke the truth.

"And if you change your mind, will you tell me first?" Elizabeth asked. "I know you do not have to, but there are many women in this Keep who find you to be a handsome man and I do not wish to walk upon a scene with you and someone else and feel completely blinded. If you wish to be with another woman, I just ask that you tell me before-"

Daryl was not sure where the boldness came from. He supposed he could tell himself that he was a husband, simply acting upon the right that was simply his. But he knew it was not that. He knew it was more than that. There was something about Elizabeth that made him _want_ to act like this. He found himself wishing to be everything that she probably had daydreamed a husband to be before she was married to him.

He leaned in and cut the rest of her words off before she could speak them and his other hand found a home on her cheek as his lips found hers. He heard the words die in her throat and she was surprised for a moment, her lips not reacting against his, but Daryl simply kept his lips where they were until after a passing second, he began to feel her lips softly press back against his. And her body relaxed under his touch and his eyes slid shut as he kissed his wife – softly and slowly, sure not to rush or frighten her. Daryl supposed he was kissing her in this manner for his benefit as well.

He knew he and Elizabeth would consummate their marriage sooner rather than later, but for now, this was more than enough to do. Kissing her and having her kiss him in return and feel her soft, delicate body beneath his hands. She was already his with or without a consummation just as he was already hers.

…

Elizabeth followed the Laird and Lady from the Chapel and the instant her eyes fell upon Daryl, standing outside the doors, waiting, she smiled. She stepped out of the way of the others coming out behind her and she waited as the Laird and Daryl stepped away for a moment, exchanging words not meant for any others ears besides their own.

The conversation ended with Richard clapping a hand on Daryl's shoulder and then turning back towards Lady Lori, he beckoned her to come forward. Daryl stepped back to Elizabeth and she was not sure what caused her to, but she slipped her hand into his.

"I know today is your day of rest," Daryl said and Elizabeth was grateful that he had not brought attention to her hand in his. "Do you wish to go see your father and sister?"

Elizabeth smiled that he already knew that that was what she did. "Yes, but first, I was hoping to stop in the woods to pick some flowers for my sister."

Daryl nodded and without a word, he jerked his chin forward, signaling to her to lead the way. She kept her hand tucked into his, liking the feel of how warm and rough her husband's skin was against her own, She felt almost giddy at the idea of her – a little nothing, just a nursemaid – leading the Head of the Garrison through the bailey as if she had any sort of power over him. She felt giddy that Daryl was letting her lead him.

She could feel eyes on them as they passed, but she did not look to see who it was; already knowing who it was that watched them. It was not the first jealous look she had been on the receiving end since Daryl had returned and she knew it would not be the last.

Once they were among the trees of the woods that surrounded the Keep, Elizabeth finally dropped his hand as she began searching the ground for the flowers she wanted to take to Margaret. And once she saw the familiar white buds, she knelt down on the ground and began picking a bouquet, feeling Daryl standing behind her, watching over her and the woods around them, always on guard for a possible breach of their safety.

"Does this flower mean something?" He asked.

Elizabeth smiled as she continued picking. "All flowers mean something. Baby's breath means many things, but right now, I am giving it to my sister to signify newborn babies. She and her husband have begun making attempts at having a babe and all the prayers help. But I hope this brings them good luck as well."

She finished plucking a small bouquet and then stood up, turning towards him with the flowers in her arms. "May I ask you something?" She looked to him.

"I married a woman, not a dog. You do not need to ask for permission to speak," Daryl said.

And the image of that was so silly to her, Elizabeth felt laughter bubbling in her throat, escaping past her lips, and as Daryl heard it, his own lips turned into a tiny smile of his own.

"Why do you not attend chapel with the others?" She asked.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "My mother took me when I was little, but then she passed, and my father never cared for religion. The only reason I started going again was because Richard's father forced me to attend. Richard knows better than to force me. I can find better ways to spend my morns than to sit and listen to a man speak on things I do not believe."

Elizabeth nodded as if that was the very answer she had been expecting. She fell quiet.

Daryl cleared his throat. "I am not insulting you for believing those things, my Lady," he said.

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. "I know you had no intent of insulting me. I am just thinking of ways I can get you to attend chapel with me," she admitted, her smile growing.

Daryl smirked. "Good luck to you on that."

Another soft laugh slipped past her lips. "I am going to ask you something else," she informed him and Daryl smirked again – this smirk one of amusement – and she felt a burst of pride for being able to differentiate some of her husband's smirks already. "Everyone knows you and the Laird are as close as brothers and his father took part in raising you. Why has the Laird not given you a title?"

Daryl looked at her for a moment and then exhaled a stream of breath. "Richard has offered such a thing to me many times. But I have refused."

 _That_ , Elizabeth had not been expecting and her eyes widened a bit.

"I am a son of a drunk. I am not the sort to have a title before my name," Daryl said.

"But you are so much more than that," Elizabeth rushed out. "You are the Laird's closet confidant and you lead the very men who keep us all safe. You have earned everything you have now in this life."

Daryl shrugged and said nothing more.

She took a step closer to him, the space between them so small now. "You deserve much in this world, Daryl. I see now that it is my job as your wife to show that to you."

No more words passed between them as Daryl stared at her. His eyes seemed so dark all of a sudden and she was not sure if she had something that had upset him, but what possibly could have upset him over what she had just said?

Her words were true. Others had told her that her husband was a good man and she was beginning to see that for herself. And in her mind, good people were to be rewarded in this life and the next for being good. To Elizabeth, it was as simple as that. Perhaps Daryl did not think the same.

Just as he had a tendency to do, he kissed her suddenly, catching her off guard for a moment, before she was able to press her lips back against his and kiss him in return. His arms slipped around her waist and around her back, bringing her in close to him as his lips moved against hers and the flowers in her arms were crushed to his chest, but the flowers were honestly the last thing on her mind. His kisses were a bit harder now, more pressure pressing to her lips, and again, Elizabeth felt a tightening in her stomach that she did not quite understand, but she knew that she wanted it to be quenched somehow.

When Daryl began lowering her gently to the ground, she thought – in the back of her mind – to stop him. This was the Lord's Day and doing such a thing today was a sin against that, but his mouth moved against hers as if he was starving and she was providing him nourishment and the blades of grass tickled the back of her neck as he laid her down and she could not imagine stopping him right now for anything.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to leave a review!  
**


	15. Chapter 15

…

 **XV.**

Despite how lovely her husband's kisses were and how warm she felt with his mouth on hers and his body above hers, Elizabeth still could not help, but stiffen beneath him, her hands going to his shoulders as if to give a slight push.

Daryl felt her stiffen and his lips pulled from hers.

"I am sorry," she spoke before he could. His brow furrowed as he looked down to her. "If you wish, I will not fight… it's just that… it is the Lord's Day, husband," she reminded him.

Daryl blinked at her for a moment as if trying to figure out how they had wound up lying on the forest floor and then his brow furrowed further. "I do not wish to take you for our first time out in the open," he informed her. " _I_ am sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm and he perhaps looked embarrassed over something.

"And we are only going to consummate our marriage when you are ready to," Daryl added.

Elizabeth felt her chest burst at that and with her fingers weaved through his longish hair, she lifted her head from the ground and pressed her lips to his. "You are a good man, Daryl," she murmured to him, barely lifting her lips from his to do so, and she meant her words with her whole heart.

She may have been naïve with most things, but not with _all_ things and she knew about a husband's rights. If he wished to have her right now, he could absolutely just toss her skirt up and have her right this instant no matter what she wanted. She was his property and a man could do what he wish to what he owned.

But Daryl would not do such a thing because he knew that she was somewhat frightened of the consummation. They had only just begun kissing one another and though she was growing quite comfortable with that affection, she was not certain that she was prepared for anything further than that between them at the moment. And somehow, Daryl knew that and he did not seem to be in a hurry himself.

She nearly frowned at that. She wondered why he did not seem to be in a hurry. He seemed to enjoy kissing her just as she enjoyed their kisses, but perhaps, he did not find himself attracted to her on a level greater than just kissing.

"So, having relations together is not permitted on Sunday," Daryl said as he slowly shifted himself off of her and he sat back, taking her hands and gently pulling her into a sitting position as well. He began gathering the plucked baby's breath that laid strewn around them as Elizabeth's fingers worked through her hair, making it free of leaves and small twigs. "Are there other days men and wives are not permitted to have relations?"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "Wednesdays and Fridays, as well."

Daryl smirked, but said nothing to that.

He stood up and then held his hand out for her to take. He gently helped her back to her feet and she smoothed her hands down her dress before taking the flowers from him that he held in his arm, ready to return to her. She looked up at him and gave him a warm smile.

"It's a beautiful day," Elizabeth commented as they began to make their way from the trees.

Daryl looked up to the sky as if he hadn't noticed or perhaps, he had and had forgotten. "Aye," he agreed. And though they were on their lands, Elizabeth noticed that as they walked, one hand remained close to the hilt of his sword at all times.

She wondered if there would ever be a time when he wasn't constantly on guard.

Of course, just a few minutes ago, when he had her on the forest floor, he certainly seemed to be distracted with other things. Just thinking of their previous position, Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm and she lifted her hand to one of them now to feel their increased temperature, smiling faintly to herself.

"I hope you like my sister," Elizabeth said as they stepped from the trees and began their walk towards the village. "I must warn you of Margaret though. My mother died when I was still a young girl and Margaret, as my older sister, took the responsibility upon herself to be a surrogate mother to me. She is protective of me and might be a bit… brisk with you."

"Should you not then be concerned, wife, that your sister like me?" Daryl questioned.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Only a simpleton would not like you, husband," she said with a smile and looked up at him and saw that his own lips were moving as if he wanted to smile as well. Instead, he reached his hand out and found hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as if it was his way of thanking her for her words.

She wondered if he was nervous. His expression was as it always was so she could not tell if he was or not, but she could not imagine him to be. It was just her family and he had already met her father at their wedding. He had no reason to be nervous. They were already married and she sent a swift prayer up to God that Margaret would show him a little mercy and go a bit easy on him upon their first meeting.

Upon reaching the inn, Daryl stepped back so Elizabeth could enter first and he followed in behind her.

"Bethy!" Margaret exclaimed and Elizabeth found herself folded tightly into her sister's arms. These poor flowers. They have been nothing, but crushed since she plucked them.

"I have brought you a present," Elizabeth said and then presented her with the armful of flowers. "Baby's breath," she informed her as Margaret took them and inhaled their scent with a smile on her face.

"They are perfect and I will put them in the front window so they get plenty of sun," Margaret promised. Her eyes then slid towards Daryl, standing behind Elizabeth, at her shoulder, having not said a word until introduced.

"Margaret, this is my husband, Daryl. He is Head of the Laird's Garrison," Elizabeth said, stepping slightly to the side so she was not directly between the two. "Daryl, this is my sister, Margaret. She and her husband own this inn."

For a moment, neither sister nor husband said a word as they looked at one another and Elizabeth was the one to start to feel nervous at this first meeting. She suddenly had an image of them both fighting over her as if they were dogs fighting for the last bone.

She found herself holding her breath until one of them spoke.

"I thank you for handling those men from a few weeks earlier," Margaret said to Daryl.

"Have they been back?" Daryl asked.

"Not yet, but I'm sure they will be. They have too much idle time on their hands," Margaret replied. "Would you like something to drink?" She asked, already moving towards the bar. "Glenn! Father!" She called out.

A moment later, both Glenn and Hershel stepped from the kitchens, a trencher each in their hands, loaded down with bowls of steaming stew and hunks of bread fresh from the ovens.

"Daryl," Hershel beamed when he saw his newest son-in-law. "Come over."

Elizabeth gave a faint smile up at Daryl and he gave her his own small version of one before obeying Hershel and going to the table where he and Glenn were setting out the food.

"He is handsome," Margaret said, coming back to stand at Elizabeth's side, looking at the men. "And father seems to like him. It would be hard to dislike a man who took such great strides in protecting you."

Elizabeth looked to her sister. "So, does this mean that _you_ do not dislike Daryl?"

"Am I acting like I do?"

"You very much can be like a mother wolf," Elizabeth told her and Margaret grinned at that.

She then grew somber once more after a moment and looked to Elizabeth. "Does he treat he well?" Margaret asked. "Or is it too soon in the marriage to know for certain?"

"He cares for me. He has not said, but I know he does," Elizabeth swore emphatically and she wondered if perhaps she was reminding herself of that as well.

She was reminded of all of the good deeds her husband had already done in regards towards her. Not only did he seem to like her, but it was evident that perhaps he respected her as well. Maybe, one day, having a husband who loved her – just as she used to dream about having for herself one day – wouldn't be such an impossibility.

"You are blushing, Bethy," Margaret teased her with a smile and gentle elbow in her arm and Elizabeth smiled as well, her cheeks growing warmer.

"He is a good man," Elizabeth said, her eyes trained on Daryl as the three men sat down, exchanging words with one another, but there were others in the inn that afternoon and neither Elizabeth or Margaret were able to hear their conversation in particular.

"He must be if he killed a man right on top of you to prevent you from being degraded."

Elizabeth's eyes flew to hers and Margaret shrugged.

"The Laird told father before the wedding ceremony and father told myself and Glenn. A man who protects you so fiercely is a good man. You did not have to be nervous about me not liking him. I liked him the moment father told us the story."

Elizabeth did not hesitate in throwing her arms around her sister in a tight hug.

"I am glad he was there to save you," Margaret whispered in her ear as she hugged her tightly in return. "I often think of how you are too good for this world and I would hate to see this world snuff that out of you."

Elizabeth did not respond to that. She simply tightened her hug.

The sisters broke apart after a moment, their eyes a bit damp, and they shared smiles and breathless laughter over their emotional silliness before going to join their father and husbands. The men stood as Margaret and Elizabeth came upon the table and Margaret gave Glenn a kiss on the cheek and Elizabeth smiled as Daryl helped her onto the bench.

Elizabeth honestly did not hear much of the conversation. She ate her rabbit stew and bread and she was aware of Daryl speaking – sitting so close to him that she could feel the rumbles of his body with each word he spoke – but her mind had other thoughts than to what her family spoke of.

She wondered what it would be like if Daryl did fall in love with her.

She had been in love with him for quite some time. She could not pinpoint the exact moment – perhaps when he stepped in when that nobleman at Carl's birth celebration had gotten too close – or maybe even sooner than that when he stood guard as she gathered lavender to help with Lady Lori's headache. She could not be sure of the exact moment; only that her feelings towards him had existed for quite some time.

The events that led to the exchanging of vows certainly had been horrific and yet, marrying Daryl and finding herself to be his wife had been a dream come true. When she thought of marrying another man – one of her father's choosing – it nearly made her shudder. When she thought of how hurt she had been over the words she had heard him exchange with Carl, Elizabeth wished to scold herself for not having more faith in the man she loved.

She should have known that he had just said those things to calm a young boy's nerves and not believe that they were words Daryl necessarily believed himself.

She once again allowed herself to imagine living in a little cottage with a husband she loved – and who loved her in return – with flowers growing in boxes at the windows and their children sitting at the hearth.

They all stood once the trenchers were empty of food.

"I must return to the keep. My horse will be demanded to be let out of the stable to stretch his legs," Daryl said to them all.

"Of course," Hershel smiled and then clapped a warm hand on Daryl's shoulder. "You and Elizabeth will come back next Sunday?" He asked though to those who knew Hershel knew that the man really was not asking.

Daryl nodded. "Of course," he said.

They left after Elizabeth hugged everyone goodbye and she smiled as Margaret hugged Daryl farewell and she was still smiling as they left the inn and stepped outside. Not able to help herself, she slipped her hand into Daryl's and he did not seem to mind for he did not pull his hand away. He looked down to her and she beamed up at him and he raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused.

"You are happy," he then stated.

"Very," she agreed. "You have won my family over."

"And you were worried that this would end in disaster?" He wondered.

Elizabeth shook her head and walked even closer to him. "I just know how my family can be. I am the youngest and they still often think I am still a little girl, clutching Margaret's skirts," she said and Daryl smiled a little at that.

Elizabeth tilted her face up towards the cloudless, perfect blue sky. If possible, the day had seemed to get even more beautiful.

"Look out!" Someone suddenly shouted from behind them. "Horse!"

People of the village screamed and cried out, diving out of the way of the neighing wild horse, stampeding through the village. Elizabeth spun around and found herself face to face with the beast as it barreled straight towards her. She found herself unable to move even as her mind screamed at her feet that she was about to be trampled. The horse bared down on her and she let out a surprised cry as Daryl yanked on her hand, pulling her from the path and pressing her against the wall of the nearest house, covering her body with his. She heard the horse stampede past and she felt her heart double-beat within her breast.

Daryl pulled his head back so he could look at her. "Are you alright?" He asked and she noticed that they were both panting breathlessly.

She nodded, unable to find words, her fingers clutching to the back of his shirt, holding onto him. It was obvious to him that she was scared witless. He brushed hair back from her face and kissed her forehead and Elizabeth was too scared to even enjoy the sweet affection. They both turned their heads and saw that several men had finally been able to toss ropes over the horse's neck and stop the beast from terrorizing further.

Daryl pushed himself away from Elizabeth and she slowly pushed herself from the wall, after him. Her knees were knocking beneath her dress and she did not know what she would do if she did not have Daryl there to pull her from harm's way. He always seemed to be saving her in one way or another.

Daryl saw the man who's horse it was, hurrying down the path, breathless and red in the face from having tried to run after the runaway animal.

"What happened?" Daryl demanded of him, stepping in his path so the man had to stop.

"I don't know, sir," the man shook his head. "The gate was locked. I swear it. I only turned away for but a moment and the next thing I know, the horse is running out."

Something about the man's words sent a chill down Elizabeth's spine and she wondered if Daryl had felt the same. He was still frowning and stepped aside so the man could pass. Elizabeth was looking to her husband, but he was frowning, looking towards the horse and then looking in the direction it had come. It was possible that the man had just _thought_ he had locked the gate. It was also possible that when the man's back had been turned, someone else had unlocked the gate to let the horse out. But why would anyone do that?

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**The update no one was expecting - including me. Baxter and George, my dogs, decided to wake me up at 3 a.m. - as that is sometimes their habit - and it got my tired mind thinking of this story. Also Jon Snow's sword work was inspiration for this chapter as well. Hope you like it! And I think you will like the next one, too!**

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…

 **XVI.**

Her husband was not wearing a shirt.

And Elizabeth could not tear her eyes from him.

The window in Judith's nursery had the most unobstructed view of the lists below and that was where Elizabeth stood, watching the men and the flurry of their training below, her husband right in the middle of it.

Ladies of station did not nurse their own babes so Judith had a feeding nurse who saw to Judith's meals with her own breasts and now, Elizabeth had taken her into her arms to burp her after her mid-day feed. She had been pacing the room back and forth, humming softly a song she was creating as she went along, and patting Judith's back gently.

It must have been her fifth time passing the window when she had stopped and had finally paid attention to what was happening in the yards below.

And what she saw, it nearly took her breath away.

She knew Daryl was a good fighter and a man who could wield a sword. He would not have been the head of the Laird's Garrison if he could not fight and though Elizabeth did not know the first thing about swords or battles, she watched her husband and knew that no one could compare even close to him and the skill he possessed.

He had no shirt on – the cool air, but warm sun making his skin bead with sweat – as he twisted his sword in his hand with some intricate spin, his bicep muscles flexing in response before he crashed it against the sword belonging to the man with whom he was sparring.

He had tanned skin from working outside at all hours and he had scars all over his back and when he spun around his opponent, she saw them on his front, too. Some faded and nearly invisible; some fresher. She knew that he had seen battle before. No matter how much peace there seemed to be, there were always battles to be fought; always men scheming to cause upheaval for their own gain. And while Laird Richard stayed in the Keep, looking over maps and thinking of strategy, Daryl was the one at his side, staying silent, but nodding and then going out to fulfill his Laird's plans.

There had been a time when Richard had rode headfirst into battles with Daryl right at his side and though Elizabeth did not know the details – it not being her place to know – she knew enough; knew that there had been too many close calls and Carl had still been too young to rule if something had happened to Richard on the battlefields. If the Laird died and the son was too young, their own war would have broken out amongst the men in the keep, deciding who should rule after Richard.

Elizabeth did not know who came to the decision that Richard would stay behind while Daryl fought.

For the first time since their hasty marriage, Elizabeth realized that she had married a soldier and their life together would be as uncertain as which way the wind was going to blow that day. She might have just a night with him or twenty years. Each time he rode off to secure the Laird's holdings, it might be the last time she would ever see him.

A lump began to form in the base of her throat as she imagined losing Daryl in any amount of time.

Daryl had dispatched one sparring partner and moved onto another – two of them – and the breath caught in her throat as both charged him, but she should not have been afraid, she realized. It was like watching Daryl dance – the way he spun himself around, the sword twisting in his hand, circling his head, coming down and finding his targets each and every time.

It was a magnificent thing to watch him fight. Her husband was beautiful.

She hardly noticed that Judith had finally burped and Elizabeth forced her eyes away from the window.

Watching Daryl had made her feel suddenly so warm and her dress felt uncomfortably tight. Watching him fight, it had made her suddenly have the most impure thoughts – thoughts that were not meant to be had in the light of day. Thoughts of her husband's muscles and the flawless way he moved and she imagined the way he would move whilst on top of her-

Elizabeth cleared her throat, grateful that no one except Judith was in the room to see her face that had now exploded with a flush. She needed fresh air, but she couldn't possibly go outside right his moment; not while her husband was out there. Without his shirt.

Did Daryl have these thoughts about her? Thoughts of her lying beneath him, without her dress on, her body exposed to him in a way that no one before him had seen her?

They had yet to consummate their marriage. They had shared kisses, but nothing more than that. Daryl had made no moves to show her that he wanted more from her. What if he didn't? What if all he wanted from her kisses? He said he would not take a mistress; not have another woman against his body besides her, but… he was a man and Elizabeth knew how men could be. She saw the way how some of the guards wooed the servant girls, promising them nothing more than an hour of rolling in the grass before they both dusted themselves off and went their separate ways.

Even Margaret had said as much before she met and fell in love with Glenn.

Men thought with one part of themselves and only that one part. Men would follow that part of their bodies into the bowels of Hell if it promised them the sweetness found between a woman's legs.

And it was not as if Elizabeth wanted to think of her husband in the same regard. Daryl was her husband and slowly, but surely, she was getting to know the man she slept beside each night in their bed. He was loyal and good. Brave and strong. She felt safe with him and she had no reason to fear him.

She knew Daryl cared for her.

But more than that… did he love her? She did not think so. Did he lust after her? Lust was a deadly sin and for her husband's soul's sake – whether he believed in it or not – it was not something Elizabeth wished for him, and yet, to know that her husband may want her as a man wanted a woman…

"What am I doing, Judith?" Elizabeth asked the babe in her arms.

She loved her husband and she was most grateful for that. She knew it never would have been her father's intention, but if things had happened differently, Hershel would have married her off to a boy from the village who would not have been like Daryl in any way. If he was kind to her, Elizabeth knew she would have eventually fallen in love with him, but what she felt for Daryl, she knew it would have been impossible to feel that for any man but him.

He made her stomach feel as if it was on fire and there was a dull ache that grew between her thighs whenever he kissed her as gently as a soft breeze and his hands lingered in her hair.

Why did he not want something more from her though? Did he not think she was ready? _Was_ she ready? Or… perhaps it was worse than that. Perhaps he did not get stirred like that when he looked upon her.

A crash of steel rang through the air and Elizabeth found herself looking back out the window.

Daryl was sparring with Shane now – the soldier with the next set of skill level beneath her husband's. Both men wore no shirts and Shane was laughing, tossing good-spirited jabs at Daryl as they circled one another, bringing their swords down against the other.

They were both dancing.

Elizabeth wondered why she had never seen the elegance to a soldier's moves before this day.

Daryl would scoff at her if she ever said such a thing to him – she could imagine his expression perfectly in her mind and it made her lips flick upwards in a tiny smile at just the picture in her mind - but it was the truth. The way Daryl spun so effortlessly, removing himself from Shane's sword, it truly was a sight to behold, and even though she knew that the two men were friends were just sparring with one another, Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat more than once when it seemed like Shane's blade came a little too close to embedding itself in Daryl before Daryl fought him off and was on the offence again.

The other soldiers who were training in the vicinity had stopped to watch the two and Elizabeth saw that she and the men were not the only ones watching. Women, too. Women from the Keep who had been doing chores outside that late morning and early afternoon. Elizabeth noticed this and frowned. They were looking at her husband; her husband who currently didn't have a shirt on; who worked the sword as if it was an extension of his arm, all of his muscles moving as he controlled it.

Did Daryl feel their eyes upon him? Did he know that women were staring at him as if he was a feast and they had been deprived of food for quite long?

The burning in her stomach that her husband gave her was replaced with the burning of anger.

It was not Daryl's fault. She did not blame him for women looking at him. He had no control over it And she could almost not blame them for their hungry and wandering eyes. But still…

Daryl was _hers_. Her husband. The man who had married her and shared her bed with her and though while he still had to take her as a man took his wife, he was still hers and she was his.

They needed to consummate their marriage. He needed to take her maidenhead. Maybe after he did that, she would not feel like a fire towards any other woman who looked at him. Her husband was an honorable man and he would never embarrass her or hurt her, intentionally or unintentionally but still, just because Daryl wouldn't actively pursue a woman himself didn't mean that one wouldn't go after him herself. Daryl was the Captain of the Garrison; the Laird's brother and right hand in all matters. Most thought that Daryl had more sway over the Laird than the Lady Lori.

And that was probably true, but Daryl was such an honest man, he would never use it to his advantage. Doing such a thing would never even cross his mind.

A man in such power – even a man considered a low-born – would be sought after by women – whether that man be married or not. But if they were to consummate and if she was to have his child…

"That's it, Judith," Elizabeth spoke firmly to the babe and then spun from the nursery, carrying Judith strongly in her arms down the back stairs.

Daryl cared for her. He cared for her deeply, she repeated to herself with each step. She did not doubt that. Her husband would do so much for her; all she had to do was ask him of it. He had already done more than she could ever ask of him. Except take her to bed and she was not going to wait any longer.

They were married. This was their duty. As husband and wife, they were to have children. She did not know if Daryl wanted children, but she knew that she did and she wanted them with her husband, whom she loved. Her heart wouldn't be able to take it if he was to lay with and have a child with another woman. Daryl would never do that, but Elizabeth knew. Women could be especially cunning when it came to getting something they wanted.

And married or not, Daryl was most certainly wanted.

She thought of him now, still in the lists, still sans a shirt, sparring and showing all to those who watched why he was Captain of the Garrison and the Laird's most skilled warrior. No other could compare to him.

Normally, for such a matter as this, she would go to see Margaret down in the village, but there was no time for that and she would not go without an escort. Daryl would be furious with her if he found out that she had gone anywhere without him or one of the Laird's men and causing any discourse between them right now would be completely going against what she truly wanted.

She entered the kitchens through the side door and Carol was standing at one of the hearths, stewing something that was bubbling in the heavy iron kettle. She lifted her head and her eyes widened with surprise upon seeing Elizabeth and Judith there. Carol straightened immediately.

"What is wrong?" Carol asked her.

"I need to seduce my husband. Tonight. And I have no idea how to go about that," Elizabeth spoke quickly, the words tumbling from her mouth.

Carol looked at her for a moment and then let out a laugh, her eyes warm and twinkling. "Oh, if you could see the way your husband looks at you, you'd know that you were already half way there."

Elizabeth paused and then shook her head slightly. "Still, I need help. I have no idea what I need to do…" she trailed off, sounding less fierce and sure than she had sounded just a moment ago.

Carol's warm smile remained as she went to Elizabeth and squeezed her hand gently. "You feed him a good meal and he'll take care of the rest, like a husband should. The surest way to a man's heart – or cock – is through his stomach," Carol said and continued, choosing not to comment on Elizabeth's blush spreading at Carol's words. "Wine, too. We'll put something special together for just the two of you to share tonight. In _private_."

Again, Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow hot at Carol's words, but she told herself that there was absolutely no reason to be embarrassed. She was a woman – a wife – who wanted to lay with her husband like so many other women before her wanted to lay with their own husbands.

She could just hope that after tonight, she would no longer be a maiden.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Let us all thank Baxter and George for this chapter update.**

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…

 **XVII.**

"There you are."

Elizabeth jumped with a start and turned to see Daryl standing just outside of the stables, watching her.

"I was looking for you," he then said.

"I've been here," Elizabeth replied. "I hadn't seen Fowler for a few days and I didn't want him to forget about me."

"I'm not sure forgetting you is possible, my Lady," Daryl said, approaching her, and he could see the blush bloom across his wife's cheeks from his words.

He was not going to deny that making his wife blush was one of his favorite things to do and he was learning that in actuality, there was not that much he did that did _not_ make his wife blush.

Daryl came to stand at her side, joining her in front of Fowler's stall, and he watched the way Elizabeth rubbed her hand soothingly up and down the horse's muzzle and Daryl could not help, but smirk a little with a shake of his head. Elizabeth heard and turned her head to look up at him curiously.

"What?" She asked curiously.

Daryl shook his head again. "I must ride this horse into battle, if need be, and need him to be ferocious. You are turning him as docile as any fat kitchen cat."

He expected Elizabeth to smile at that, but instead, she kept looking at him and a slight frown began pulling down her lips. She shook her head.

"Do not say those words," she whispered.

"What?" Daryl asked, his own frown appearing on his face now, not knowing what he had said that would upset her.

He had said his words in jest and he did not think that he had said anything that would warrant her growing upset, but this was far from the first time where he was reminded that he had absolutely no idea how to be a husband; let alone someone who knew how to talk with any female – not just his wife.

There was a reason he was a soldier and not a minstrel.

"I do not like the thought of you ever going into battle," she said in a near whisper.

Daryl's lips parted slightly, but he closed them once again, having no response to give her to her thoughts. He knew what he should have said. Even he wasn't that big of a dolt. As her husband, he should pull Elizabeth into his arms and assure her that no harm would ever befall him and he would never have to ride off and fight. There was no truth to that and Elizabeth knew it, too.

He liked to imagine that his lady wife would appreciate honesty over placating words that held no weight.

So, he said nothing, but he did pull her into his arms though. She let out a small sight and nestled her head against his chest, her ear over his heartbeat and her arms around his waist, as Daryl held her. He felt most comfortable in the lists, sparring and training. There was no secret to that. Honestly, there was the only time he ever felt comfortable in his own skin. But holding Elizabeth like this, he was still getting accustomed to being able to hold her or kiss her whenever he wanted, but he liked to think that he was growing comfortable when he was doing this, as well.

Right now, there was peace across the land and there seemed to be no immediate threats, but Daryl knew that could change at a moment's notice. They all knew that. They were never too careful; never too relaxed. Two Houses could begin fighting with one another and they could call on Richard and his men for support in the fight. Or Richard and his name could get into a fight with another Laird. No one could ever know what was going to happen.

And before – before Elizabeth – Daryl was not bothered by it. It was the way of things. He was a soldier and lived a soldier's life and where his Laird told him to go and who to fight, Daryl did it without thought or argument. But now, there was Elizabeth. But now, he was a husband and someday, a father, and he couldn't just go riding off into battle without thinking of no one, but himself. He was a soldier and the head of Richard's Garrison and there would be no choice if a fight arose as to whether Daryl would fight in it or not.

But now, he had all the more reason to get home alive and feel his wife's head upon his chest once again.

"I saw you training earlier," Elizabeth spoke again, choosing to change the subject and Daryl was grateful for that.

"Did you like watching?" Daryl wondered out loud, unsure if she would or not.

Elizabeth was as delicate as a flower and the ways of soldiers and fighting were not meant for someone like her.

"Very much so," Elizabeth then admitted and then she lifted her head, looking up to Daryl with a small – almost shy – smile and an obvious blush across her cheeks. Daryl wondered if he was imagining it, but he was fairly certain that his wife's pupils were becoming dilated as well. "I have planned something for us," she continued. "If you have time?" She asked, her shyness being replaced with uncertainty.

"I am yours for the remainder of the day and night," Daryl said and she smiled instantly at his response.

He had no idea what this slip of a woman had planned, but suddenly, Daryl found himself becoming nervous and he had no idea why he should be.

"Good," Elizabeth said with a nod. "Lady Lori has taken Judith from me for the remainder of the day, as well. She told me that she wishes to spend time alone with both her children. I didn't want to pry."

Daryl nodded, but said nothing. A marriage arrangement had come to an agreement between Richard and Phillip for their children, Carl and Penny, but Richard had yet to make the announcement and though Elizabeth was his wife, it was not his place to tell news that was not his to tell. Lady Lori was getting her fill of time with her children before one was married and became a man and no longer had need of his mother.

"May we take Fowler?" Elizabeth asked. "I was hoping we could go somewhere."

"Where would you like to go?" Daryl asked, already making moves to lead Fowler from his stall and get him saddled and prepared to go.

"Somewhere private," Elizabeth said and Daryl froze in his actions.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, and Elizabeth stood there, blushing, but not taking her eyes from his. She stood bravely and allowed his own mind to race with thoughts of what she could possibly mean though Daryl supposed there was no wrong guess with her words.

 _Somewhere private_.

"We have a bed in our chamber," Daryl felt the need to point out to her.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "But my sister told me that… sometimes, the first time for a woman can be painful and I do not wish to be in the keep with so many ears around in case it is painful for me."

Daryl dropped Fowler's reigns and faced her completely. He reached out and took her hands in his. "I do not wish it to be painful for you, Elizabeth, at any time. We do not have to do this today."

"You have not seemed that eager to consummate our marriage, I have noticed," Elizabeth said. "Is there… do you not feel attracted to me in that way?" Her voice has gotten softer now; almost fearful.

Daryl nearly snorted at that. He would not tell her just how many mornings he had plunged himself into the freezing waters of the nearby river because of thoughts he had had of her.

"Worry yourself with everything, my wife, if you wish, but never that," he responded to her gruffly. Again, a blush crept across her cheeks. "I know that it can be uncomfortable for maidens and I have not been eager to have your first time be so unpleasant."

Elizabeth stepped closer to him, her hands still encased in his. "I cannot imagine that anything you do to me will make me feel unpleasant," she said quietly. "If what your kisses do to me are any indication, I am eager to lay with you as husband and wife lay together."

Daryl began rubbing his thumbs across her knuckles and he saw that she nearly shivered at his touch.

"What do my kisses do to you?" He couldn't help, but wonder. He knew what kissing her did to _him_ , but he had had no idea that his kisses did things to her as well.

He kept rubbing her knuckles and staring into her eyes and Elizabeth visibly swallowed.

"It is not proper to say," Elizabeth whispered.

Daryl did a quick look around the stables before back to her. "It is just us and it is not a day that the church has forbade from such discussions from happening. It is just a wife and husband speaking to one another."

Elizabeth gave him a look then and he nearly smiled. This wasn't just an innocent talk and they both knew it.

"What do my kisses do to you?" He wondered again and again, Elizabeth swallowed thickly.

"When you kiss me, my…" she stopped herself and lowered her eyes as if shamed. Daryl gently pulled on her hands so she moved in a step closer.

"Your what?" He lowered his voice to match the volume of hers.

"My nipples…" she said, stopping again, her cheeks aflame now.

Daryl honestly had no idea what came over him. He was not the sort of man to do this. His other soldiers had no sense of shame or propriety when it came to seducing one of the maids of the keep and they had all teased Daryl good-naturedly about living his life as if he had taken the vows and had become a monk.

He supposed marriage changed him though. Now, he stood with his wife and all he wanted – he realized upon her telling him that it was what she wanted – was to be with his wife.

"Yes," Daryl said as his eyes swept down to her breasts beneath her simple green work-dress. "Your nipples."

He said the word and it almost sound foreign on his tongue. In all his years, he did not think he had ever said the word. He stared at her breasts now and couldn't imagine anything, but the nipples hidden beneath the dress. Now, he found his mouth salivating for those nipples.

Elizabeth's breathing was increasing and as it did so, her breasts began lifting up and down with each inhale and exhale at a noticeable pace. She was staring at Daryl as he blatantly stared at her breasts.

"You make them so hard with your kisses, they begin to ache," Elizabeth whispered and it was strange to feel pride for her for being able to tell him that, but that was exactly how Daryl felt right then.

"May I see?" He asked, finally lifting his eyes to look back to her face.

"Here?" She asked, whispering, her eyes widening slightly as if in horror.

"There is no one around," he promised her and if there was, he would be sure to skewer them with his sword for intruding upon their moment.

Nonetheless, he took Fowler's reigns and looped them around a nearby post so the horse did not wander off, and he then took Elizabeth's hands, gently pulling her into Fowler's stall so they had a bit more privacy.

"May I see your breasts, Elizabeth?" He asked her again.

Elizabeth leaned against the far wall and Daryl stood in front of her, his imposing figure hiding the view of her from anyone who might walk into the stable now. She reached behind her back and began to loosen the ties of her dress and Daryl watched. He would offer to help, but his fingers would be clumsy and be more of an obstacle than aid. As Elizabeth's dress began to loosen, he gently pulled down the front of it, lower and lower and he could not help, but wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"No shift," he then noted.

"I removed it. When I saw you training… I knew what I wished for us to do later this day. I did not want to be wearing anything extra," Elizabeth admitted, her breathing still heavy, and her hands dropped to hang at her sides.

Daryl lifted his eyes to look to her face. She was not afraid. He saw no fear in her blown pupils If anything, he could interpret her quickened breathing for anticipation. Daryl did not pray, but he hoped that he did not disappoint her.

"I wish you to keep your hands on me," he said as he gently took her hands and lifted them to his shoulders.

The action made Elizabeth smile at him and in that moment, he felt his heart expand to a size he did not know possible. This beautiful, sweet woman was his. All his and his alone. His wife.

And he loved her. He loved his wife.

"And I wish you to have my breasts," she whispered, blushing, but her voice steady and brave.

Daryl smiled his small smile at that and leaned in, kissing her on the mouth. "Whatever my wife wishes," he murmured and smiled again as a giggle bubbled in Elizabeth's throat.

As gently as he could, he tugged the dress down – off her shoulders and a bit down her arms – until her bare breasts were in front of him. Small and white with her light pink nipples hardening into points that made his throat water.

Oh, yes. The memory he might have had of any pair of breasts he had ever seen in his life instantly flew from his head the moment he looked to his wife's breasts. They were small – like Elizabeth – and he knew that men often preferred their women to be a bit more voluptuous in this particular part of their body, but not Daryl.

Daryl would not change a single thing about Elizabeth; certainly not her breasts.

"Have you gotten your look of them then?" Elizabeth said, teasing him, but her breathing quickening even more.

"Never," he shook his head. "I have just begun."

And with that, he lowered his mouth to one breast, and his lips fasted around one of her nipples and Elizabeth cried out softly, her fingers clutching the material of his shirt over his shoulders, and as he began sucking ever so gently, Elizabeth's back arched from the wall, his name leaving her mouth.

"Daryl," she gasped.

His name had never sounded better, in his humble opinion, as he began sucking just a little bit harder. He wished to make her gasp his name again.

…

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 **Elizabeth's POV in the next chapter and the consummation continues. Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review. Thank you to those who keep being patient with me as my muse takes a break.**


	18. Chapter 18

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 **XVIII.**

His fingers – index and middle – were buried inside of her and she was so tight, he had trouble moving them at all at first. She was wet though in addition to being tight and the growing slickness certainly helped. Daryl slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her body, giving her time to adjust to everything since this was so completely foreign to her. He kissed her, but mostly, he watched her face and listened to her pant and moan and gasp.

Elizabeth had no idea what he was doing down there, but it felt too good and therefore, she knew it was a sin. It had to be. She knew what the Church said about anything that felt _this_ good. It was a sin. Even between men and wives. This was surely a sin because it had felt so strange at first – almost a twinge of pain – but now? Oh, now, it was-

"Daryl!" She gasped softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders, the material of his tunic fisting in her hands.

Daryl's face was pressed to the side of her neck and she could feel his breath, heavy and hot, passing over her skin and it seemed to be growing more rapid; almost as if he was feeling as good as she was in this moment.

"Daryl, oh!" Her hips wantonly moved against his hand.

"Like that?" He asked though he clearly already knew the answer, his voice rough and gruff in her ear and her nipples tightened just from that alone.

Whatever he had done with his fingers, he did so again. There was somewhere within her, a spot she hadn't even known could possibly exist, and when Daryl rubbed at it again and again, she swore her knees began to tremble and if she opened her eyes, she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered her entire body to be on fire right now. It certainly felt as if it was.

And then, his thumb swiped across something. Elizabeth had no idea what he had just done, but it was certainly something she had _never_ felt before. She cried out and her fingers dug into his shoulders and she felt as if she was going to fall. But her husband seemed to know that would be her reaction for he held her firmly to the stable stall wall, his arm strong around her waist as his other hand continued working between her thighs.

She did not allow herself to think how her husband knew how to touch a woman in such a way. She did not allow herself to think of all of the other women her husband had brought pleasure to. She was only going to allow herself to think of this moment now. She was the only woman who was his wife. _That_ was the important thing. Not all of the other women who he had brought into Fowler's stall before her.

And yet, had there been so many? She saw the frequent flirting between the maidens and other soldiers of the Laird's Garrison, and yet, she had seen none that her husband had partaken in. She had seen many of the servants within the Keep – especially those from the kitchens during meal times – throw Daryl their best smiles and lean over _just so_ for the tops of their breasts and what laid beneath their dresses to be exposed. Elizabeth had seen it all from her place at the same table. But her husband, before he was such, had hardly lifted his eyes from his food or cup of ale before him. No one had ever seemed to interest him.

Until her.

"You are so tight, Beth," Daryl whispered to her then and his lips scraped down the line of her jaw.

"Is that…" she was panting and could not catch her breath. "Is that a good thing?"

"It is the best thing," he assured her in a voice that gave her shivers as if she was cold despite the inferno that now cloaked her entire body.

"Daryl!" She then cried out loudly before she could stop herself; before she could worry of being overhead by someone other than Daryl or the horses. They may have been alone – for the moment – but they were in the stables. Anyone could walk upon them at any moment and though she was hidden from view, between Daryl's body and the wall, it would not take much at all for someone to see what her husband was doing to her then.

Daryl chose that moment to swipe his thumb over some spot between her thighs and Elizabeth did not know what happened next. It was almost as if perhaps she blacked out right then and there. She had been slapped once – by the head cook in the kitchen before Carol was given that position the year before – for simply standing in her way when Elizabeth had gone searching, in need of a mortar and pestle. And that man at Laird Phillip's Keep, what he had done before Daryl had stopped him… what Elizabeth felt now, it was almost like being slapped over and over again – all over her body. And yet, it felt good. Her body seemed to have burned up and now was bursting into flames.

She could not explain it for she had felt absolutely _nothing_ like it before in her life. She was burning and shaking and she thought that perhaps Daryl had killed her in some way and now she was dying.

But then it was over and she felt as if she could no longer stand. She rested heavily against the wall and Daryl supported her with his arm around her waist. She felt a slickness between her thighs and she watched, her eyes growing wide, as Daryl pulled his hand out from between her thighs, her dress falling back down and Daryl then popped those two fingers – the two fingers that had just been _inside_ of her – into his mouth.

"That is a sin," Elizabeth blurts out before she could stop herself.

Daryl slowly pulled his fingers from his mouth and looked at her. "Is it? I can't imagine this being talked about in that book of yours."

"The Bible," she said with as much authority she could muster in that moment; which, given as her body was still trembling slightly, wasn't much at all. Daryl's lips quirked into a little smile. "And it must be a sin, what you just did to me. Husbands and wives cannot make a babe from what we just did and that is the only reason that husbands and wives are to be intimate with one another. For procreation."

"Is it?" Daryl asked again and Elizabeth wanted to roll her eyes at him, but inside, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from letting out a moan as Daryl then slowly swept a thumb across one of her nipples, the front of her dress still pulled down and her breasts still exposed.

"You're purposely being difficult," she informed him.

"Am I?"

"Daryl," Elizabeth laughed then and Daryl lifted his eyes from her breasts to look at her, his lips still turned upwards into a small smile. She was quiet for a moment; her body feeling, once again, somewhat normal. "How did you know what to do to me?" She then asked softly.

"I didn't," Daryl shook his head and then as if it pained him to do so, he began to pull her dress up once more.

Elizabeth helped, tucking her breasts back inside, and pulling her dress back into its proper place on her body, reaching behind her to do the laces once more and she smiles, her cheeks warm, as Daryl leaned down to press a kiss to the top of each breast.

"You didn't?" Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure if she believed that though she knew she had no reason not to believe him. Daryl was the most honest man she knew for even if he didn't tell her everything, she knew that he would always answer her questions as best as he could if she asked.

"The men talk of what they do to other women and when they do, I listen," Daryl explained simply. He lowered his eyes for a moment – as if shy – and then looked to her again. "Did you like it?" He then asked – as if he hadn't just seen her body's reaction.

Elizabeth lifted her hands, brushing hair back from his face – still somewhat damp with sweat from his training in the lists earlier that morning. "I did," she whispered with a smile and Daryl smiled a little, too. "Very much so. But it's still a sin."

"You won't convince me of that," Daryl shook his head.

"The Church forbids such act of pleasures. I am certain couplings aren't supposed to be… _like that_ ," Elizabeth told him and she knew her husband did not believe in going to Church as she did each Sunday, but she felt it was her duty to educate him nonetheless. She believed that Daryl had been brought into her life to keep her safe and to protect her and Elizabeth would take it upon herself to do the same for him in return.

And she knew she wouldn't be able to save him in the physical sense, but perhaps, she could save his soul.

"As husband and wife, we are to create children together. That is our duty," Elizabeth then stated.

"Our duty? Who said? Did Richard tell us that this was our duty?"

"God, Daryl. It is our duty-"

"I didn't agree to anything like that," he spoke, cutting her words off.

Elizabeth stared at him and her mouth slowly closed. The bliss from just a minute ago was now completely vanished from her mind and instead of fire, she felt cold wash over her now instead.

He did not want to have children? But… she stopped herself. _Why_ would she think he would? They had never discussed such a thing. They had been married so quickly – and quite unusually – and she began replaying all of their conversations. And despite being married, they had actually not had that many so being able to recall them all between them did not take her long. Her memory was not wrong. She and Daryl had never discussed this.

Elizabeth had always wanted children of her own. Not just because, as a woman, she was expected to have children, but because it was what she truly wanted. As she held Judith in her arms, she imagined a babe of her own. She had just assumed… naively, she had just thought that _everyone_ wanted children.

Apparently, that was not so. She had married a soldier; a man who lived with his sword in his hand. Why would she expect him to want the same things as she did? They were so different in every other way. Why did she not think that they would be different in this one as well?

Daryl seemed to be able to peek into her mind for his hand cupped her cheek and he leaned in, giving her the softest kiss on her lips that made her eyes close.

"I did not mean it like that, Elizabeth," he murmured to her in a quiet voice.

"This is something we've never discussed," she told him though he already knew. "I… I would like to discuss it."

"We will," Daryl vowed. "Would you… right now?" He then asked and the man from before, who brought her such peaks of pleasure – pleasures which she had never even knew existed – now seemed so unsure.

She nearly smiled at that, but thankfully, she was able to control herself from doing so. Now was not the time.

"I would like to have children," Elizabeth said though she knew it was not some grand secret. "And you?"

Though Daryl knew this was coming, he still looked completely lost by the question.

"I-" he began to speak, but then cut himself off then. He slowly pushed himself from the wall, his arm around her waist falling away. Elizabeth pushed herself up as well, her eyes remaining on him. He looked down to the straw that laid across the stall floor and seemed to be studying it for a moment before looking to her again. "I have never thought of having children," he then admitted and that was not some grand secret to her either. "I did not think I would be alive this long in my life to think of anything like this."

Elizabeth nodded. "I understand," she said and she meant that truthfully.

"And I would hate to get you with child and then something happen and I-" he cut himself off then once more and Elizabeth was grateful for that.

She did not wish to ever have thoughts of Daryl being taken from her; not so soon after finally finding one another.

Not ever.

"I do not wish to pressure you, but please. Would you think on it? For me?" Elizabeth asked, her hand going to his arm. "I would be so honored to bring a half-you, half-me babe into this world, but if you do not..." she trailed off because she did not know how to finish that.

What was a wife to do if married to a man who did not wish to have children?

Daryl stared at her and said nothing. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

Elizabeth gave him a small smile, knowing that she had given her husband quite a bit to think on this afternoon. She rose on her toes and gave him a kiss on his cheek. But as she began to leave the stall, Daryl reached out and gently took hold of her hand, stopping her. She turned back to look at him.

"This evening, after the evening meal," Daryl said, looking to her face. "Fetch a blanket from our bed. We will return here."

Elizabeth's stomach instantly flipped at his words and what she was fairly certain what he meant with those words.

"This evening?" She asked and Daryl's hand left hers so his could slide onto her hip and drew her in close to him.

She shivered once more, but again, she was beginning to feel the heat that she was becoming accustomed to associating it with being close in Daryl's presence.

"This evening," Daryl confirmed, his eyes staring into hers, and right on cue, Elizabeth's nipples tightened.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review! I think we all know what is going to _finally_ happen and not a moment too soon because Laird Phillip will be making an appearance once again. **


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